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Chapter 288: Grieving Family
Last Updated:
2024-11-27 18:54:05
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Ivy's POV“Explain.” My voice isn’t cold, exactly, as I stare Delilah down. I’m not trying to be mean, but I know now to keep my distance when it comes to dealing with her–to not get invested, to keep my cards close to my chest. I tilt my head at her and narrow my eyes, waiting for an answer. Delilah shrugs weakly, looking away. She looks scared and defeated, but I don’t buy it for one second. She swooped in like a vulture picking at the weak spots in my relationship with Spencer, and she struck the moment she saw an opening. If Delilah is capable of being that heartless when it comes to Spencer, I don’t think there are any lines she’s beyond crossing. I don’t like what she could do. I find my hand drifting over my stomach protectively. I wonder what she’d think if she found out about my pregnancy. I wonder what she’d do. “I haven’t been able to get a hold of Spencer,” Delilah says in a quiet, tremulous voice. She takes a step towards me. Instinctively, I push Jason behind me,
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Spencer's POV“His body is still in the office?” As she asks Colin the question, for just a moment, I see a sliver of emotion on my mother’s face. I wonder what this is like for her. I remember what she said to me when I got engaged to Delilah–that royal marriages were rarely matters of the heart. I wonder if she loved my father. I don’t thinks she ever did. But she was with him for decades. They had three children together. All the years that passed–it forms an undeniable bond, a sort of resignation to the person you’re spending the rest of your life with. In so many ways, I think it was just the two of them against the rest of the world. And now it’s just her. The question passes her lips and hovers in the air. My mother looks away, taking another breath to recenter herself before her gaze returns to its usual bladelike sharpness and settles on Colin once more. “I didn’t touch it,” Colin replies. “So his body–” the words die on his tongue. He clears his throat before continuing
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Spencer's POVAs the three of us make our way into my father’s office, an uncanny sense of quiet fills the air. I’m no stranger to death. I’ve been on the battlefield for almost as long as I’ve been alive–I’ve taken more lives than I could possibly count, and I’ve seen more deaths taken than I could possibly count. I’m not called the God of Death for nothing. I’ve had the immense displeasure of seeing the demise of people I knew prior, and that, too, has always been rather jarring. I’ve always managed to keep my cool, though. To remain distant and detached. Why should this be any different?But I can see him at the desk now, body slumped over. There’s blood dribbled from his lips and caught in his beard, splatter arcing across the desk. Colin was right–his skin is tinged ever so slightly blue, and his eyes are wide open and bulging. My father is dead. He’s dead right in front of me. My mother lets out a soft gasp. She approaches the desk slowly, one hand extended tentatively. Fo
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Spencer’s POVAs my claws tear through the ice-cold flesh of the witch’s body, a bloodcurdling scream suddenly pierces the air. With a fierce cry, the witch tries to wrench herself from my grasp, but she only succeeds in dragging her body along my claws, worsening her own injuries. Blood splatters on the ground and onto my paws. It doesn’t feel like blood normally does, though–it’s cold like freshwater and feels oddly slick, almost oily. I pull my lips back over my teeth and growl viciously, searching for the witch’s neck in this darkness. “You beast!” The witch wails like a banshee. I can see her eyes glinting reflectively like a cat’s in the darkness. As we hit the ground, one of her antlers breaks and falls off. “Do you have any idea how powerful I am? You don’t have the faintest whisper of a chance against me, you brute–” I curl my claws inward, deepening the wounds further, and the witch lets out another ragged scream. Suddenly, the darkness in the room all seems to slither t
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