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Axel laughs. “He’s been a bloody nightmare to live with. We couldn’t stop him sneaking out and leaving flowers around the house as a clue for you.”
“That was you?” I gasp.
Axel raises a brow. “Do you think if anyone else left you flowers they’d still be breathing, my love?”
A wave of relief washes over me as their words sink in. The pain and longing that has consumed me for so long begins to fade away. They’re here. They’re real. We really did survive hell together.
“I killed them both,” I whisper, unashamed but nervous for their reactions. It was part of the plan, I know, but the shock of this night has me doubting everything.
“We know,” Axel replies, pulling me close and kissing my temple. “And we are so fucking proud of you, princess. You were magnificent.”
“You watched it all?”
“Absolutely. If I thought for even a second you were in any danger I would have come back from the dead to avenge and protect you.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” I whisper. “I did it for all of us.”
“And that’s why we love you, love, because you’re one of us. A queen, a goddess, and more than we ever hoped to deserve.”
Uncomfortable with his praise, I change the topic.
“Who knew?” I ask. They must have had help.
“Only Hector.”
Come with me, let us keep you safe. We’ll help you get to the graveyard.
Of course. It makes so much sense now.
“But…The Gods?”
“They owed me,” Axel says emphatically. “No one wanted a war, but I was fully prepared to start one after what they did to you. This was a truce of sorts. An agreement with lines drawn in the sand. We’re going to co-exist without killing one another. Or the plan at least is to try.”
A shudder escapes me as the truth settles in – they really are alive.
“But...” My voice is barely audible amidst the chaos swirling within me.
Zie squeezes my hand tighter, his gaze locked with mine. “I hate that we had to lie to you. Never again, Peony, I swear.”
A jumble of questions spring forth from my lips as realisation dawns on me.
“Why?” I whisper.
“It needed to look real,” Axel tells me, immediately understanding what I mean by my question. “It had to be believable. You had to think we were really gone in order for you to take them out. You needed to truly bleed to succeed. I’m so sorry we hurt you.”
“Losing you almost broke me,” I confess, almost choking on the words.
The weight of my confession settles upon us like a heavy blanket, suffocating the air from my lungs. I struggle to comprehend the magnitude of their sacrifice, the lengths they went to in order to protect me. The pain that was inflicted upon my heart was not in vain; it was a necessary façade to ensure my safety.
As I look into their eyes, the remnants of that pain is reflected in their own. They made this choice for me, for us, but it does not erase the hurt that lingers within me.
The Holy Trinity. Will they ever stop hurting me for my own good?
I take a deep breath, steadying myself against the onslaught of emotions threatening to overwhelm me once more. “I understand,” I say, my voice stronger than I thought possible. “I understand why you did what you did. But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.”
They exchange sombre glances before nodding in silent understanding, their expressions a mixture of remorse and relief. With one last glance filled with unsaid words, they stand and leave me sitting there, consumed by the weight of their secret and my own conflicting emotions.
“Wait. Where are you going?” I cry out as they reach the doors of the chapel. “You can’t leave me.”
