Lyra's POV
I refused to hear a word he said, refused to listen. Old or new, he would always be the Zarek that robbed me of happiness in over 170 lifetimes.
I hurled the vase at him, but he dodged it. It hits the floor with a loud, sharp cry, spilling sand and flower seeds onto the stone tiles. I snatched another, threw it at him again, and another.
I threw everything I could lay my hand on in the room at him. He dodged them all, teleporting so fast with his superhuman speed that the things I threw barely made a dent even on his robe.
I dropped back and rested on the wall nearest me, panting as hard as I had never done. My breath came in fast and raspy. I could clearly hear myself breathe. My arms wobbled beside me, groaning terribly in pain that I almost couldn't feel them again.
The bastard. How I wished he wasn't immortal. How I wish he didn't have such powers.
I watched him closely as he lifted his head, his eyes trailing over the mess in the room to me, the crimson pair darkening. "Did I truly do so much harm to you in the future to deserve this level of hate?" He asked, his voice very strained, every word laced with pain, and he returned to staring over the mess.
But I didn't care. He might not be the future Zarek, but that doesn't mean he hadn't snapped already, become evil, and was hiding it.
"Yes, you were just pure evil. A bastard—claiming Draziel stole something from you as you took my life across over 170 lifetimes, making Draziel and me miserable." I told him, my raspy breathing slurring my words a bit. Some were almost inaudible even to me.
"Okay," he whispered gently, leaning his hand forward as if to placate me. "I know you hate me, but what about the maids? Let me call them in to assist."
"No! I don't want any maids!" I screamed with the remaining air left in my lungs—my lungs burning like wildfire after. When he couldn't get me himself, he had always used the maids, guards, and servants, bribing or torturing them into poisoning me or strangling me in my sleep, until Draziel was forced to empty the whole castle then. I couldn't afford to trust anyone here except Draziel.
"So what do you want me to do?" He asked, raising a brow. He sounded almost genuine.
"For starters, get the hell out of my sight," I snarled at him.
He grunted, jamming his teeth so hard, I believed it was painful. But to a creature as powerful as him, it was probably nothing. His crimson eyes found me again, and then, without another word, he disappeared from the room.
I turned to the pocket of Draziel's robe that I still wore, and I fetched the lock of Draziel's hair. The hair hadn't worked earlier, but if I kept trying, perhaps it might. I had to get back to the future Draziel, before the future Zarek claims his life with the blood oath.
I threw my eyes around the room, my gaze jumping everywhere in search of Draziel's sword. But I couldn't find it. It wasn't in here. Had Draziel taken it? Perhaps not. It might still be in the castle fields.
Quickly, I dashed for the door. The broad hallways with their thick stone balustrades loomed in both directions.
I heard the noise then, harsh tenor-like voices of demons chatting. Almost by reflex, I started back to the door. Throwing my gaze up ahead, I caught figures looming from the top of the hallway. I pressed my body against the slim space between the mahogany bulk of the large door and the extended, equally wooden doorframe, keeping myself very well hidden from sight.
I didn't need to try. The maids were heavily absorbed in their discussion, their harsh, demonic voices echoing along the stone walls. They barely looked up as they took a bend into another hallway also ahead, one of them wheeling something near to a wooden trolley, full of beddings.
Maids… I stood still for a moment, staring blankly into the air, my brows crumpled in thought. If there were maids, then there were male servants and guards too.
Then I slapped my forehead, a low growl escaping my lips as I grunted at my own stupidity. I was in the damn past, not the future where Draziel lived completely alone in the whole castle.
I raced down the hallway as fast as I could for the stairs, making sure no one spotted me. I had lived in the castle for so many lifetimes with Draziel that I had come to know it like the back of my hand. Even with the guards, maids, and everything, I could still move completely unseen.
I walked down the long stone stairs, which, like always, seemed to never end. Whenever I spotted a maid, guard, or servant, I quickly dashed to hide in any known crevice and waited for them to pass by, and then I'd continue.
I continued like that until I reached the last floor, practically tiptoeing down the stone-paved floor of the long terrace into the fields, when a voice rang loud behind me. "Stop there, human."
The hard steel voice sent cold tremors washing down my veins, freezing me to the spot—it was the voice of the last person I wanted to hear in the world. Voice of the betrayer—Varin.
I bit my lips hard, jerking my head sideways, cursing and rebuking myself. How had I let him, of all people, catch me?
He teleported to my front, standing over the well-trimmed grasses of the lawn that extended onto the field. His large body blocked off the sun as it blocked off much of the calming fragrance of the flowers behind him.
"Where are you going, human? Do you think this is some place you can be frolicking around in?" he snapped. He glared down at me. Against all my willpower, against all my hate for him, I started to feel a part of my heart pounding furiously against my chest, and I retreated a foot away from him.
He closed that gap quickly with just a throw of one of his massive feet. "Where were you headed, you puny human?" he snapped again. The steel in his voice heavier now.
"Spare the lady, Varin. She was searching for me," I heard Draziel say behind me. The sound of his voice sent a wave of calmness spreading through me, dispersing the turmoil raging in my body.
I turned sharply to him. My body screamed, my blood sizzling with the urge to run into the safety of his big arms, but I held back, folding my hands tight beside me to fight the urge.
The memory of how he had thrown me away earlier was still fresh in my mind, and so was the pain—that nagging ache that began to seize my heart now, squeezing it so tight I had to make a rushed inhale of the cold air around to steady my breaths.
Varin hissed, "Okay, my king," and he bowed. And like before, he blessed me with another look of raw hatred before walking away, his large bulk disappearing from view as he climbed the stone stairs.
I heaved a heavy sigh, another wave of relief flooding me at his departure.
"Where were you going?" Draziel asked, drawing closer to me. "You should have stayed in your room, human. The guards don't know—"
"I was heading to the field," I cut him off, a bite to my words. Coming from other demons, 'human' was just a simple adjective, but to him, it was the biggest insult. "Stop calling me, human. I am Lyra. Lyra," I repeated, should he fail to hear the first because of the angry strain in my voice. "Lyra. Your woman."
"Okay, human," he answered, as if completely oblivious of what I had just said.
I wanted to scream "Lyra" to him. Yell at him to call me by my name, but I forced some calm onto my facial muscles. It was useless. To this Draziel, I was just an ordinary human, not his woman—not the woman he loved across lifetimes.
"What are you going to do in the fields?" He inquired.
My soul and body were built specially to conform to his will—answer to him. I couldn't stop it. I wanted to lie to him, not give a clue that I was still trying to escape here, so he wouldn't try to stop me. But against all that, I was leaning my hand out, spreading my palm to show him the lock of his hair, which I had held onto.
"I am trying to find my way back."
He leaned back, an easy smile spreading his lips, "But the hair doesn't work, nor will any part of me, until I have mastered the time-traveling techniques. You are practically stuck here until I do." He explained calmly, brushing his thumb gently over his cute, symmetrical lips.
I searched his face for any hint of the lie. Any hint that he was making that up. I saw nothing—nothing. A sudden giddiness hit me, along with the realization. He was damn right. That must be why his hair didn't work on the sword earlier. I am stuck here. I can't save the future Draziel, anymore. I can't save him from his oath he'd made because of me. He was going to die.
My eyes swirled about, everything blurring out of focus, and I staggered, teetering on unsteady legs until I hit the nearest baluster. I gripped tight to it, relying on its supports against the turmoil inside of me.
The ache was just too much to bear. My fingers slipped.
"Human… Fuck… Lyra," I heard Draziel scream, the alarm in his voice tearing the air around me like a whip. I felt it as I fell into his arms once again.