After The I Do

by Autumn Breeze

  “The boy—”

  “—is my husband,” I cut Arnoux off before he can present his argument. Whatever the district head has to say is irrelevant. Everett has betrayed us but he is still my husband. I will not torture him. “I will speak with him.” Silence rules as I push away from the table.

  Leaving the library, I find Luke Graham, my stable hand, standing outside the door. His appearance means one thing. “He’s awake.”

  “Yes, sir, for a few hours now but . . . ” He glances toward the door and I understand what he isn’t saying.

  I told everyone I wasn’t to be disturbed. That was hours ago, while the sun was still low in the sky. Now, it is pushing into the evening hours.

  “Has he said anything?” I ask, moving away from the library and bickering heads.

  “No, sir, but . . . ” Luke trails off as he follows; I look toward him, waiting for him to finish his thought. “He cries when he thinks he’s alone.”

  I can’t bring myself to care that he cries. Before this day is over, there will be more tears, I am sure, but I’ll have an explanation, too. After everything, I deserve one, don’t I? Everett at least owes me a reason, a rationale of exactly why he helped destroy . . . everything—the peace . . . us.

  “Bring a meal from the kitchen.” I touch my temple as the marching band in my head increases their crescendo. I don’t know if the ache is a product of the circumstances within my control or those outside of it—maybe a result of both.

  I doubt I am the only one suffering from a headache because last night, no one ate or slept. By dawn, district heads were arriving from all across the city. I am exhausted, like so many others who are staying on my estate, but sleep is hours off for me—if I get any within the next couple of weeks while dealing with the looming war.

  “Sir.” Luke leaves toward the kitchen and I leave the house.

  Four guards stand at the entrance to the stables; two more are inside, standing by the downstairs entrance. None of them say a word as I walk past.

  Walking down the stairs, I sigh as soon as my feet touch the concrete floor. Once, I thought these rooms, these cells, would never be used again but that was a foolishly optimistic thought. I should have known better and maybe I did, but I wanted to believe so badly in the peace my father proposed and the husband I loved.

  Reality cannot be kept at bay forever.

  I stop just before turning the corner that leads to Everett’s holding cell. Closing my eyes, I inhale as the sound of soft sobs reach me; it feels as if a cold hand is wrapping itself around my heart with the intent of squeezing the beating out of the organ.

  Why did it have to come to this?

  I don’t understand. Everett and I were happy . . . or so I thought. I thought he loved me; I thought we were in the process of making an honest life together.

  Was I wrong? Was it all a lie?

  I don’t know where truth ends and lie begins, or vice versa. All I know is Everett drugged me and I ended up in a cage because of it.

  “Sir,” Luke says behind me. I turn and he extends a plate of covered food.

  “Thank you.” He nods, his gaze moving toward the doorway. Everett’s sobs have quieted. “Leave us for a time,” I tell him; he looks uncomfortable with the idea.

  “I’ll be near, sir.” He leaves as silently as he came and I turn the corner to confront Everett.

  Standing in the middle of the cell ramrod straight, his eyes are puffy and red from recently shed tears. A bruise has formed where I struck him, adding to the sad sight he presents.

  A wave of guilt rolls through me at seeing him stripped of everything but a burlap sack. It is common practice when someone stays below the horse stable to have all of their possessions removed but it still hurts to see Everett in such a state.

  “Thanos—”

  “You will have your chance to explain. First—” I walk toward the edge of the cell, “—eat.” Bending, I push the plate under the bars and step back. Everett looks at the plate then me.

  “I’m not hungry,” he lies. The suspicion that rolls across his face irritates me.

  “It hasn’t been tampered with, Everett,” I tell him, pushing one of my hands into my pocket. “Eat . . . please?” I ask softly. Tears fill his eyes as he steps forward and grasps the bars of his cell, the food forgotten.

  “Thanos, listen—”

  “Everett—”

  “No,” he cuts across me, desperation leaking into his tone. “Let me talk now or I might never have the courage to do it.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.

  Is it wrong that I want to delay this part for just a little?

  Without a proper explanation, I can create a million and one scenarios that account for what happened that don’t involve Everett actually betraying me.

  Maybe he was forced into our current situation by Evaline?

  Maybe he was being blackmailed in some way I was unaware of?

  But no, because Evaline told him, “Good job, Everett; I didn’t think you had it in you but I’ve been wrong before,” meaning he was most likely an active participant in this duplicity.

  He wasn’t forced or blackmailed; whatever he was, he was also willing. That is absolutely clear and it is time I own up to that fact—stop making excuses simply because I love him.

  Pulling my hand away from my face, I look at Everett. He is the only one with the answers I seek and the only way I get them is if I listen. “Go on.”

  “I’m an idiot—”

  “What an understatement,” I retort and press my lips together.

  I need to listen without interrupting.

  His fingers tighten on the bars. “I have no excuse. I . . . I want to say I had no other choice but . . . I know that isn’t true.” Of course he had other choices. He could have chosen not to drug me. He could have told me before we went into the warehouse that his eldest sister expected him to betray me. “I thought . . . They’ve always hated me, but . . . I thought if I did as they wanted, I’d be accepted—” Everett shakes his head, pressing it against the bars. I clench my teeth.

  He was accepted! My family accepted him!

  “—but I was wrong,” he whispers, closing his eyes and sagging against the bars. “I was so wrong. How could I have been so idiotic?” he mutters more to himself than me.

  “You knew from the beginning?” I ask. Opening his eyes, he meets my gaze and swallows. The fingers tucked into my pocket curl into a fist.

  He knew; he knew from the very beginning. I can read that on his face clear as ink.

  “I thought you’d be a monster,” he mutters, a tear running from the corner of his eye. “Hating you was supposed to be easy but . . . you’re not, and it wasn’t because I don’t.” Turning away from him and his statement, I swallow. The back of my throat burns.

  He could have talked to me. If he just came to me, I would have . . . I don’t know what I would have done but things could have been so different for us.

  “I’m sorry, Thanos. I am so sorry for . . . everything that has happened,” he mummers.

  Everything that has happened.

  My warehouse burned. My little sister—

  I swing around to face Everett, a new fire in my blood. He betrayed our vows, the supposed peace, me but more than that . . . “You bastard,” I growl. “Lilith.”

  My little sister almost died. She lost her baby because of—

  “No!” Everett shouts, his knuckles going white as he squeezes the bars. “I didn’t know,” he cries, the tears he was fighting spilling over. “I swear, I didn’t know. When I found out, I was sick.” He looks as if he is going to be sick now. “I wanted to tell you then, but I was scared.”

  He has good reason to be scared now.

  “I don’t know what is lie or truth, Everett.” How could I tell the difference? He is such a good liar. For months, he fooled me. Never once did I suspect what he planned.

  “I tried so hard to be honest. I only lied when it was necessary,” he whispers. Reaching up,
he runs his arm under his dripping nose. He is long past trying to hide his tears. I am long past being hurt by them. “I’m being honest now, Thanos. I never wanted Lilith hurt.”

  “You think Evaline would have spared her—any of us?” I snap.

  Everett closes his eyes, pressing his head against the bars again. “I don’t know.”

  I close my eyes and inhale softly. He doesn’t know and maybe five months ago, he didn’t care. He had no reason to give a shit when we first married.

  “The district heads want to torture you, Everett.” He gasps and I open my eyes. His tight grasp on the bars seems to be the only thing keeping him on his feet. “I’ve told them no—” he exhales softly, “—but if you don’t cooperate and people…my people suffer, I will look the other way.” He closes his eyes, his head falling against the bars as he starts to shake.

  “Thanos—”

  “I didn’t ask for this,” I whisper. “War . . . I am so tired of it. My father’s peace was worth every sacrifice because I am so tired of the blood. I would have done anything for an end to the fighting. I married you. I didn’t want to— not really, not honestly—but I did it for a chance at more than surviving. And—”

  I pull my hand from my pocket and step toward him, “—for the first time since I became a man, I felt like I was doing more than just trying to make it to another day. You gave me that, Everett.” Curling my fingers around his on the bar, I shake my head as he meets my gaze. “If you had been honest, truly honest with me, I would have stood beside you ‘til the end.”

  My eyes burn and I can feel a hot tear roll from the corner to carve a path down my cheek. I would have never betrayed him.

  “I know. I just . . . I’m sorry,” he whimpers.

  “Duke is going to question you.”

  He is the only one I trust to get the truth from Everett without hurting him. Duke will know the questions to ask, the information that is important. As a detective, he is perfect for the job.

  “Why not you?” Everett inquires. I drop my head against the bars so we are only separated by inches. His breath is hot against my chin as he exhales.

  “Because . . . ” I start, my voice far more shaky than I am accustomed to, “I’ll believe anything you say without question. Even now…” I shake my head at how foolish I am.

  Even now, I love him.

  36

  The only good solution to war is peace.

  My father’s attempt only proved that peace is impossible.

  The only other option is to fight.

  The idea turns my stomach. If we fight people, innocent people who don’t deserve to have violence destroy their lives, will die.

  My friends, people I consider family, will be at risk. No one will be safe.

  What will I do if one of them dies? I can’t lose another person I love; it will break my heart in such a way I may never recover. Not fighting isn’t an option, though. Giving control of Necropolis to the dogs is absolutely out of the question. The city hierarchy won’t survive for long under Vârcolac rule.

  Pushing one of my hands into my hair, I sigh as my mind runs in circles. There will be no progress until Duke appears with answers and there is no way to know when that will be. My eyes drift toward the clock; it has already been hours since he went to question Everett.

  What is being said?

  What news will Duke bring?

  Will it be good news, if such a thing exists anymore?

  Will it be bad news, because it seems as if that is the only kind that prospers now?

  Leaning back in my chair, I close my eyes and settle in to wait. It isn’t long ‘til there is a knock on my office door. Sitting up, I take a breath to prepare myself.

  Whatever comes next, I will face head on to the best of my ability. People count on me to do right by them. Everett is not the only person I need to protect; he shouldn’t even be on the list of people I am still trying to keep safe.

  His betrayal stings but I cannot ignore the fact that he is my husband.

  “Come in,” I call. The door is pushed open but it is my father’s head that pops around the side. My shoulders relax as he smiles. I can’t help but notice it doesn’t reach his eyes, doesn’t make the green forest catch fire. None of us are capable of any positive emotion right now.

  Even hope is dead.

  “Can you spare a moment?” he asks and I nod, waving him forward.

  “I always have time for you,” I tell him as he sits in the chair across from me.

  Relaxing into the chair, he exhales.

  The wrinkles around his eyes seem to become deeper as his eyes meet mine. I can see in them the stress he feels, how tired he has become. My father is dying before his time because the war—the fake peace more so—has taken its toll on him. There is nothing more I can do to ease his burden. I must carry my own now.

  Who is it that said, ‘heavy is the head that wears the crown,’ and where can I find him?

  “How was your conversation with Everett?” he inquires once he is comfortable.

  I sigh and shake my head. What is there to say? My conversation with my husband did not ease the ache of his betrayal or provide any useful information.

  All I learned is he betrayed me and has no excuse—which hurts more than if he had one.

  “He knew from the start,” I tell Father who closes his eyes briefly. “It was always their plan to betray us.” It was a good plan, a successful trap I fell into without a single suspicion. It never occurred to me, not once, that my own husband would be disloyal. It should have. Trusting a Vârcolac is like drinking salt water to quench your thirst—a foolish act of the ill-informed.

  “I suppose we should be thankful Everett didn’t go through with it.” I scoff.

  Everett drugged me and allowed me to be caged. I could have been killed by his sister while I laid passed out and defenseless. Before that, he successfully played the role he’d been given.

  Not once did he falter—not before or after we confessed love.

  “The betrayal he managed; it’s my murder—” the murder of my family, I suppose “—he couldn’t go through with.” The thought should give me some comfort but it doesn’t. It only makes me aware of how close I was to dying, how very close we all were to extinction.

  “That is a good thing, Thanos,” Father replies. “The boy made a mistake—” I nearly scoff again. Everett has made a series of mistakes. The first one being marrying me. “—but he saved you in the end. It's not an excuse but . . . it’s something.” Is it? I’m not sure I agree. “He loves you.” Closing my eyes, I inhale softly.

  I know—or at least I still believe—he loves me; I love him, too. It isn’t enough.

  “I can’t trust him.” What is love without trust? “He betrayed all of us.” There is nothing stopping him from doing it again—except for a cage and my lack of faith. It would be foolish to give him another chance, another opportunity to hand us all over for the slaughter.

  “I know,” Father sighs and rises to his feet. “Your mother wants you to come down for dinner.” I check the time. There are still hours left in the day. Dinner is sometime away.

  “I’ll be there.” He leaves and the hours tick by as I wait for Duke. I am starting to wonder if something happened when there is a knock on the office door. The knob turns and the wood is pushed open before I can respond. Only one man is so bold.

  “It’s a good thing you’re sitting because you’re not going to believe the shit I have to tell you,” Duke speaks, shutting the door behind himself. I sigh; it doesn’t sound like good news, as I expect because there is no such things as good news anymore.

  “Tell me but sound a little less excited.” He laughs—a strange sound in the unhappiness and disappointment of my estate—and falls into the chair my father vacated only a few hours ago.

  “Evaline has been alpha for months, almost a year in fact. She took it from David. Oliver challenged her position and lost but she made him her . . . beta?” I nodded at th
e term.

  Everett would have been my second but an alpha’s most trusted member of their pack is called a beta. I suppose she put a whole new spin on ‘keep your friends close; your enemies closer,’ which doesn’t surprise me. Evaline is cunning.

  “Most of the pack is unaware, according to Everett. Only a select few know David is simply a figurehead,” Duke informs me and I frown.

  Which few? I assume his immediate family. “She was alpha when Everett and I married.”

  “It seems so. The whole thing was her idea. The—” Duke trails off, letting his gaze slide away.

  “There is no need for everyone to pussyfoot around it—betrayal. The plan was hers,” I say.

  She used my father’s hope for peace against us all; none of us saw it coming.

  “Everett went along with it to earn a place in the pack,” Duke gushes, as if he is spilling the latest gossip. “He said by the time he realized his was here, with you, it was too late; things were already in motion.”

  The only point at which it became too late is after he drugged me. Any time before that, he could have told me and I would have found a suitable solution for both of us. Something could have been salvaged of our relationship. Now, I’m not so sure.

  “Just tell me everything—without all the fanfare.” I don’t know how Duke can sound so excited about the prospect of war. But then, he is human and they live on war—feed on it as Moroii do blood. “I need to know everything if we plan to win this war.” Duke shrugs.

  “There isn’t much to tell, actually. Everett was following orders—not very well, but more on that in a minute. He didn’t actually know the plan—the big picture, sure, but not how the pieces moved together.” He was just an important pawn.

  Did he know his sister would have no qualms with discarding him after she had what she wanted? It seemed unlikely since he went along with her deceit.

  “What do you mean he didn’t follow orders well?” I ask.

  In what ways has Everett disobeyed Evaline?

  “He was supposed to report everything he learned and judging by what he said, he learned a lot but after the warehouse, he didn’t tell Evaline anything.”