I knew he hated when too much attention was on him. Angels were so selfless, that anything which was too focused on their own needs made them feel almost ashamed of themselves. Not that he wasn’t familiar with that feeling.
I never hated my powers more than in the moment I’d found my brother. The disgust in himself, the shame of what the evil person had done to him. It was all there, heavy on my tongue. I’d wanted to vomit and rip the entire cave to shreds. I could have lured her; I could have offered myself to Leanan. I smelled her on him. The vampire scent, but not Xavier’s musky scent. It was instead a smoky scent of black magic and corruption. I would have loved to ambush her, rip out every single bone, and force her to drown herself. But I couldn’t, not with Gwendolyn there.
Too consumed with all the rage inside me, I barely noticed that Malakai had stepped out of the bathroom, already dressed.
“Are you better? Can I bring you a drink?”
He shook his head, his gaze focused on the floor.
“I’m your brother, Malakai. Don’t shut me out.” It was a plea. It wasn’t the years passing between our last meet-up. It was the torture making him feel so small.
The venom tasted even more bitter on my tongue; I felt my nails starting to get tingly. It was a sign of shifting, like I wasn’t fully in control anymore.
“There are many things I won’t tell you, little brother. Not because I want to shut you out,” he stated, taking a seat on the bed. His gaze drifted around the room. It was the lightest in the castle. The bedding was white, and the windows were open.
I never wanted him to fear darkness would drown him ever again.
“I want to protect you,” he finished softly.
“You don’t protect me if you keep going through it in your mind alone. You aren’t a prisoner here anymore, Malakai.”
His gaze drifted upward. His eyes weren’t watery, but I knew he kept up a strong front to avoid breaking into tears.
“Gwendolyn found me… you found me.” The way he said it, like he couldn’t believe he was worth saving. And I knew it had to do with all sorts of manipulation and the mind games he’d gonethrough.
“You aren’t broken, Malakai. You are strong.”
“What makes you so sure?” he asked, his fingers brushing over his arms, over the scars. The visual signs of what he went through. And although some of the scars outside were deep, none of them were as deep as the scars on his soul.
“Because you are an angel. Mother knew you would be the strongest in our family. I might be blessed with the ability to transform into a dragon… but you… you are kind and selfless. Nothing beats the good.”
“Kindness is weakness,” he whispered slowly. “That’s why she took me there. Because I had been kind to her. She had no idea that I was bonded to Gwendolyn, my soul already bound to hers.” His fingers started to caress the scars. “And now she tainted me for her…” he added, starting to itch his scars. I barely noticed how easily his skin started bleeding. It was unusual for angels to bleed. What had she done to him?
“Stop, Malakai,” I said, taking his hands in mine. I closed my eyes and let my inner dragon take away his fears, drawing out his negative emotions. They tasted salty, like tears, and it didn’t exactly make me feel good. But I couldn’t bear to see my brother so full of self-loathing.
“Gwendolyn does not care about such things… she has missed you,” I said, stroking his hands with the aim to soothe him. “She found you first and sensed that you were hurt.”
“I am dirty,” he whispered, and a shiver ran down my spine as Malakai spoke so low of himself.
I shook my head. “No. Dirty is only the person who did this to you. Don’t let her win, Malakai.” I embraced my brother, feeling his tears running down. I knew he had tried for so long to be strong, and now he was finally away from all of it. His soul could breathe.
It was as if whatever was left inside him was finally able to letgo.
I tried so hard to fulfill and realize his desire for deeper self-realization. He had to sleep. After a while, his eyes started to close. I tucked him into his bed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. The same way he had when I was a young child, asking why my father seemed to hate me.
A few minutes passed before I left his room. I wanted to make sure he was sleeping soundly. I was too afraid to leave him alone. Neither I nor Gwendolyn would be able to handle it if he hurt himself.
And not Xavier either. Even though he always seemed very distant, he was the one who knew the most about his mother’s cruelties. He didn’t talk about it often, but I knew his childhood hadn’t been rosy. While his mother hurt him, his father looked away.
My body was too restless. I couldn’t sleep. I had to check on Gwendolyn.
As my gaze wandered across the room, I didn’t see either of them. But then I noticed that the door to the balcony was open. Gwendolyn was half-asleep, laying on Xavier’s lap, as he stroked her back in soft circles.
His heartbeat was so fast. Was he scared?
“Are you okay?” I asked, unsure, as his fast heartbeat spoke volumes.
“When you went with Malakai to your room,” Xavier muttered. “She had a panic attack.”
