His stomach lurched.
What better way to do this than to have the lover turn murderer, and the unrequited paramour present to bear witness?
And if he’d refused to destroy Neyu, the rest would have been unmade, leaving Saer alone.
No, not alone.
Leaving Saer with Lucifer.First, andfavored.
Saliva flooded his mouth.
In Saer’s travels around the world, removed year over year from Lucifer’s influence, he’d witnessed true leaders, lovers, families, fathers.Humans showed him the best and worst of each.He remembered how Neyu made him feel—the rightness.No matter which angle he looked at It, his maker never invoked the same sensation.Or rather, It drew an instinctual parody of the sentiment to the surface, but tainted.Compellingly toxic.
Saer craned his neck and swallowed past the sickening reflux fighting against him.Something innate pressed at him, a built-in mental block which manifested in physical discomfort.
If Errshek wasn’t to blame for Neyu’s unmaking, and he knew he didn’t condone the heinous act, it left one possibility.
Lucifer.
Saer bent suddenly to the side and vomited.The First’s retches were blanketed by torrential rain and thunder.
The fallen angel.
Another heave, and Saer fell to the ground on his hands and knees, the pressure in his abdomen shoving so hard it pounded behind his eyeballs.
It killed Neyu.
The contents of his stomach tried to empty a third time, and Saer spit on the ground at the end of it, fighting to catch his breath.
Deceiving, murderous, iniquitous beast.
His head pounded, the ringing thick in his ears.The more he pointed his internal accusation at his maker and away from Errshek, the more his body rebelled, as though the First’s loyalty had been baked in.Inherent.Considering going against Lucifer triggered every discomforting sensation in his body, urging—commanding—him to lean another direction.
But his confrontation with Errshek opened his eyes, well and truly.He’d never be able to close them again.
The others—Arek, Alus, Runeak, Errshek, Kalia—all lived under the same veil, didn’t they?
His stomach lurched again, but nothing was left.He groaned and spat on the ground.
None of his kin considered their maker to hold any fault in Neyu’s undoing.Runeak blamed him.The Twins blamed the culmination of events…and him.Kalia didn’t want to blame anyone, yet coaxed him to be better, asked if he even missed Neyu.Lastly, Errshek blamed him…and himself.
To some degree, all pointed their fingers at him.Even he had blamed Errshek.Noneblamed Lucifer.
Until now.Until him.
Would they ever see?
Saer gasped great lungfuls of air, and dared to whisper the words aloud, “Our maker’s fault.”
His guts spasmed again.
Saer gritted his teeth against it, digging his fingers into the moist dirt under them.“Itsfault.”
The nausea resurged, and he tightened his abdominal muscles against the sensation, growling.Saer dared to sit, hands shaking.
He said the words again, battling the inborn allegiance Lucifer used when creating him.
Pride wouldn’t allow himself to be the fool again.
