Chapter 12: Two Sides Of The Same Man

⟐﴾DARKHOLME, FIRST KINGDOM OF THE EMPIRE OF NIGHT﴿⟐

••{RHIANNON’S POV}••

My eyes slowly drift open.

My body feels strangely light and rested as if I’ve slept for days. A heavy yawn leaves me as I stretch my arms above my head. Then suddenly, my eyes widen and I go completely still.

My attempted escape...

The vampires closing in...

The amber eyes I saw before everything went dark...

It all comes rushing back.

My brows furrow the second I look down at myself.

My wedding gown is gone and I’m wearing a blue night gown instead. My hair falls over my shoulders in smooth waves as if someone took their time combing through every strand.

My breaths quicken and my heart begins pounding hard against my ribs.

I have to get out of here.

Quickly, I throw the covers off and rush to the doors, gripping the handles and pushing with all my strength. But the door doesn’t open.

"No, no, no," I murmur frantically as I try again, but the door still won’t budge.

"Open the door!" I scream, pounding my fists against the hard wood. "Let me out! I said let me out!"

I continue to scream until my throat feels sore. I keep slamming my fists against the doors until my skin bruises. My eyes sting as tears gather in them, and my voice grows weak and hoarse.

Eventually... my cries and the pounding stop altogether, and my legs give out.

I sink down slowly until I’m sitting on the cold floor. Then my body starts trembling violently as I burst into ugly sobs.

I sit there for a long while, wailing until my eyes hurt.

My cries eventually fade into quiet sniffles.

As I push myself up from the floor, my body feels heavy, and every step I take feels even heavier.

Once I reach the bed, I lower myself onto the mattress, pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them.

For what feels like forever... I just lie there, staring at the door in silence.

Then suddenly I hear a click.

I immediately jolt upright as the door opens, then someone steps inside.

"Princess," says a soft, feminine voice. "You’re finally awake."

As soon as she closes the door and starts walking toward me, I scramble backward on the bed. The moment my back hits the headboard, my heart drops to the bottom of my stomach.

Because the curtains are drawn, the room is mostly dark and the only source of light is coming from the fireplace so I can’t make out her face.

Is she another vampire?

Does she know Azræl?

"Who are you?" I ask firmly, but the tremor in my voice gives me away.

"Your Highness," she says, stopping at the foot of the bed. "My name is Nayeesha Shadhari."

"Are you..." I swallow, "..one of them? A v–vampire?"

A soft laughter fills the room.

She walks past the bed toward one of the tall windows, and the moment she pulls the curtains apart, sunlight floods the room.

Nayeesha stands tall, her dark-brown skin glowing in the sunlight. Her black hair tumbles down her back in many braids, and when she turns to face me, her amber eyes catch the light.

My eyes immediately widen with shock.

"You..." I say, pointing at her. "You’re the one who made me fall asleep. You’re not a vampire. You’re—"

"A witch."

꧁ ✧༺ ❦ ༻✧ ꧂

✧••{NAYEESHA’S POV}••✧

The moment the word leaves my mouth, Rhiannon reacts exactly as I expected.

She springs from the bed, nearly tripping over her own feet as she scrambles backward until her back is up against the wall in a corner of the room.

She looks so frightened, and her chest rises and falls quickly as if there’s a monstrous beast in the room.

"Stay back!" she warns. "Don’t come near me!"

Very slowly, I lift my palms.

"I don’t intend to harm you, princess," I say gently.

"You’re a witch," she hisses. "Why should I believe anything you say?!"

Although her fear is familiar, it still hurts.

I fold my hands behind my back then carefully walk to the edge of her bed and lower myself onto it.

"I don’t blame you," I say quietly. "If I had been raised with the lies you were fed, I’d hate witches too."

Rhiannon doesn’t say a word. She remains in the corner, staring at me with wide eyes.

I pat the space beside me. "Come sit," I say softly. "I won’t hurt you, I promise."

For a long moment she refuses to leave that corner.

At some point, I start to think she might actually stay there until whenever I choose to leave.

But then... very slowly... she takes a step forward. After a few heartbeats... she takes another, her gaze suspicious as she carefully crosses the space between us.

She sits on the bed eventually, but at the far edge, never taking her eyes off me for even a second.

My shoulders sag as soon as I notice the redness in her eyes and the dried tears staining her cheeks.

"You’ve been crying," I say, keeping my voice gentle.

She quickly wipes her cheeks then averts her gaze.

"I assume Azræl has already told you everything," I add.

She doesn’t answer.

"You shouldn’t be afraid, Your Highness" I say. "You’re in safe hands here in Darkholme."

A bitter laugh leaves her lips.

"Safe hands?" she repeats, turning to face me. "I’m trapped in a castle full of vampires who won’t hesitate to bleed me dry once they find out who I am. And you expect me to believe I’m safe?"

"You are," I insist, moving closer. "You’re under the protection of the Emperor himself. No one would dare lay a finger on you."

"A good man?!" she snaps, shooting up from the bed. "That monster ambushed my wedding! He slaughtered my people! He ripped out the heart of the man I love, right in front of my eyes, then he dragged me away in chains while my siblings clung to me—screaming and crying my name! Azræl Bloodbourne is anything but good!"

Carefully, I rise to my feet and take a step toward her.

She immediately takes one back but that doesn’t stop me. I keep moving closer until there’s almost no space left between us. Then I hold out my hands to her.

"Give me your hand," I say quietly.

Rhiannon looks down at my open palms for several heartbeats before meeting my eyes again. Then slowly, she begins stretching out her hands.

Her blue eyes keep moving from my face to my hands, her expression scared and uncertain as she brings her trembling hands closer to mine.

When our hands come so close that they almost touch, she pulls back slightly.

I don’t reach for her. I don’t rush her.

I just give her the warmest smile and wait for her to come to me.

And she does.

She places her hands in mine and I gently wrap my fingers around them.

"Do you know how lucky you are that it was Azræl who found you first?" I ask. "Your celestial blood has the power to strengthen every supernatural race—even humans. If anyone else had discovered you, you would already be dead."

Her lips part, and for a brief moment I wait for her to say whatever it is she wants to say. But not a single word comes out of her mouth.

I guide her back to the bed and we both sit.

"Azræl is far from evil," I tell her.

Rhiannon looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind.

"I find that hard to believe," she replies.

"Then let me tell you a story," I say.

We sit quietly for a few seconds as I brace myself, because certain memories can leave wounds that never fully heal.

"I’m sure you’ve heard of the witch purge sweeping across the kingdoms of Valthorea." I begin.

A slight crease forms between her brows as she nods slowly.

"I’m from the kingdom of Saharim," I continue, "and in my homeland, when a witchborn is discovered, their hands are cut off to stop them from using magic. If it’s a man, he’s beaten and tortured to an inch of his life then thrown into the wilderness to be eaten alive by vultures. But if it’s a woman..." my gaze falls to my lap as I swallow the lump in my throat. "They’re taken as bed slaves, violated day after day until eventually... they’re burned at the stake."

The moment I lift my head and meet Rhiannon’s eyes again, I’m surprised by her expression. Her face has drained of all color, and stares at me with nothing but horror in her eyes.

None of the humans I’ve ever known have shown me that kind of empathy before.

"My parents didn’t want my brothers and sisters to remain in Saharim, constantly looking over our shoulders and living in fear," I say quietly. "So one night, we fled. But we were caught by witch hunters at the border. I was only fourteen at the time."

As the memories flash before my eyes, my vision blurs with tears, and my heart aches with every single beat.

"My parents tried their best to defend us," I say, a shaky breath escaping me. "But they were overpowered and butchered like livestock in front of me. Then my siblings and I were held captive."

Rhiannon’s eyes begin to shimmer as tears gather in them.

"My brothers were tortured for days before they were finally executed," I go on. "As for my sisters and I..."

Suddenly, my throat feels too tight for me to continue. I curl my fingers into fists so tight that my nails bite into my palms.

"My sisters and I were..." I let out another shaky breath as a tear rolls down my cheek. "We were raped repeatedly."

Rhiannon gasps, covering her mouth with both hands.

"I was the only one that survived the abuse. But the day I was to be burned at the stake..." a faint smile curves my lips. "Azræl saved me."

Rhiannon frowns. "He–he did?"

I nod. "He killed my captors, then he brought me to Darkholme and gave me a home when I had none."

For a moment, Rhiannon stays completely still and silent, staring at me like she doesn’t know what to do with all the things I just told her.

I give her hands a gentle squeeze. "Azræl Bloodbourne is a good man, Rhiannon. One day you’ll see and understand the good in what he’s doing."

Her lips part, but before she can say a word, the doors swing open and we both turn to find Azræl standing in the doorway.