He writhes again, causing his metal chains to clink against the concrete floor, “YOU SEE NOTHING. YOU MAY KILL ME TODAY, BUT I PROMISE I WILL ALWAYS I WILL ALWAYS HAUNT YOU. DAY AND NIGHT. I WILL ALWAYS BE APART OF YOU.”
I grip his tattered shirt, ripping what remains of it off his body. Bile fills my mouth as I see a vulture tattoo on his chest. A symbol of the mockery he’s made of me and my father, a symbol I planned on reclaiming today.
I replace the classic hunting knife in my hand with a curved blade, pressing the tip into Cyrus’ chest. “Let me make myself clear, Cyrus, your lies, your army, your memories, your legacy, and your name will all disappear with time. Until nothing is left, but remains of your bones buried so deep in the ground no one can find you.”
I give him no time to respond, cutting into his skin slowly, just as Azula had shown me. Fighting and killing, I knew like the back of my hand, but this special type of torture was herexpertise. For as much as Cyrus boasted a few seconds ago, he was screeching in agony as I traced around his tattoo. Slowly, I angle the sharp edge of my curved knife inward, causing sticky blood to pool onto my fingers. More screams and curses fall from Cyrus’ lips, but I refuse to let the sounds deter me. I make my final cut and watch Cyrus’s tattooed skin fall to the ground.
Blood continues to leak from his chest, and eventually Cyrus’ screams turn into whimpers as he falls to the floor of his cell, spasming slightly. Azula removed the chain around Cyrus’ neck so I can check his pulse. “He’s not dead yet, but he will be soon,” I note.
I toss my knife to the ground now that it’s tainted with his blood, and step closer to Declan, who is beaming at me with pride, and pulls me into his chest. “My strong, violent wife.”
Declan holds onto me, arms wrapped around my waist, as we stand silently watching the life drain from Cyrus’ eyes. As he takes his final breath, exhaustion finally hits me. Exhaustion and a deep lightness in my chest. One that I hadn’t felt since my father’s death.
“We’ll handle the body.” Azula breaks the silence, nodding to Connor.
I nod as Declan guides us out of the cell. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I thought you liked me bloody and violent?” I tease.
“I do. But Cyrus’ blood isn’t worthy of staining your hands,” he insists.
“Declan?”
“Yes, love?”
“You make me feel hopeful,” I confess, feeling goosebumps up and down my arms as he holds me again.
His warm lips brush my temple. “And you make me feel like everything in the world is right. Because so long as I have you in my arms, it is.”
50
ZAHRA
Two weeks later.
"You're going to have to talk to him eventually, you know," I chastise, as Declan draws idle circles on my back while we lay in bed.
"I've literally talked to him every day since we got back," Declan counters.
"You've spent five minutes each day asking if he's healing okay from the bullet wound and whether he wants Maura to send over any more casseroles. When that's done, you head straight home, play with Cody for an hour, and then distract yourself with sex," I summarize.
Declan narrows his eyes. "Making love to my wife is anything but a distraction. And if I remember correctly, you were the one who begged me to 'fuck you so hard you'd feel me fora month.'"
I shrug. I'd never be ashamed of anything Declan and I do or say to each other. And he loved it. "All I'm saying is you haven't had any hard conversations with Aidan yet, and you can't keep avoiding it forever."
"I know. I just get so mad every time I'm alone with him. And then I feel guilty for getting upset because he did save your life. I don't know what to do. I want to forgive him, but he's also why your life and his were endangered in the first place." He buries his head into my chest, as I stroke his hair.
"I can't tell you what to do when it comes to forgiveness. But what I can say is, it's okay if it takes time. Or if you're never able to forget what he's done. I just want you to be honest with yourself about it. And know that I'm here for you." I sigh as he drags his stubble across my bare breasts. He brings one of my nipples to his mouth and sucks on it hard. I moan in response to his touch, then push him off me, laughing at the pouty expression on his face. "Did you even hear me?"
"Of course I did, I just get easily distracted by how beautiful you are." He smirks as I roll my eyes and slide out of bed. "Where are you going?"
"We have a meeting we're already running late to," I remind him. One that would potentially change the course of our lives.
He knows how nervous I've been about this, so instead of begging me to come back to bed, he stands up, places a kiss on my forehead, and gives me a reassuring hug. "Everything will work itself out. I promise."
Instead of meeting in the dining room at my father's mansion, we called our inner circles to the living room of our cottage. If we were going to start a new era of the Persian and Irishempires, we needed to build new traditions. My only hope is that everyone else will be on board.
Declan and I walk into the room hand in hand. He stiffens slightly at seeing his brother on the couch, sitting next to Lorkan, but keeps his expression calm. I’m the one who asked for Aidan to be here. If Lorkan's brash ways could be overlooked, given that his morals were actually aligned with my father and Cillian. I think it’s fair to give Aidan a second chance, given that he was being blackmailed by the man who had manipulated all of us. I'm not sure Declan fully agrees with my perspective but he supported me nonetheless.
