Mark of Betrayal (Dark Secrets #3)(140)
Author: A.M. Hudson

“But that was it—he was going to kill himself after that?”

“Jason sat me down, made me swear an oath on our bloodline that I would get you to safety when the time came. When he asked this of me, I realised only then that he did not plan to live with what he’d be forced to do to you. He didn’t want that burden on his soul.” He rubbed his brow fiercely, then dropped his hand into folded arms. “The plan was for him to erase everything from your mind, then erase himself from this world. And the fact that his plans to kidnap you and keep you safe failed, meant that everything you suffered was his fault—because he told the council of your existence.”

“But he did that to save Eric, Arthur. That wasn’t his fault.”

“I know. And I argued this with him, but he’d made up his mind. He took an extra vial of your venom, planning to use it for his own death, until later that week, when we realised that Drake was playing along too easily with Jason’s excuses as to why he hadn’t finished the list.”

“Playing along?”

“Mm. You see, Drake is a hard man; he does not allow excuses, of any kind. But he allowed this. And it seemed strange that each time the council gathered to watch your torture on the monitor, Drake had somewhere else to be, almost as if he couldn’t watch.”

“Why couldn’t he watch?”

Arthur smiled softly at my face. “You’re his niece, essentially. He’s always been a family man, and he loved Lilith. I believe it pained him to see you cry that way.”

I looked away then, from the wash of hurt across Arthur’s face as he clearly remembered things he’d seen. “Did you watch?”

“Some, yes. Only for Jason’s sake, though.”

“How was it for his sake?”

“I was watching him for signs of psychological distress. But it seemed the compulsion act Drake gave him—to hate your kind—helped Jason cope in those moments.”

“So, when Drake refused to watch, you suspected he didn’t want me dead?”

“I suspected that this went deeper than just what we had learned about the prophecy so far. I managed to convince Jason to stay alive until we figured this out, told him that, even once we rescued you, you would not be safe from Drake. He promised to live only until we had seen Drake’s demise.”

“So…he still plans to die?”

Arthur nodded.

“He’s going to end his life just because he was forced to hurt me?”

“Not just for what he did to you in that chamber, Amara, but for all he did before that. For the fact that he was at fault, for the fact that his torture of you at the masquerade was the reason I discovered you were Lilithian, but, most of all, for the guilt he suffered because of the bind.”

“Why the bind?”

He scratched his chin with his thumb. “When he confessed that to me, that he had tricked you into loving him under disguise of your best friend, he was so aggrieved that the words came out unintelligible. He is a good man, was always a good boy, and he let his anger turn him into something he was not—something he could only try to be. But it ate away at his soul. And I know, of all the things he did to hurt both you and his brother, the bind was the one he regretted the most.”

“But…I forgive him for that, Arthur.”

“I know. But he cannot forgive himself. It would be like a man of God—a priest—murdering someone. The forgiveness of others does not heal the hatred we have for ourselves.”

I covered my mouth tightly, holding in a sharp snivel.

Arthur softened, coming to wrap an arm around me. “We will see this resolved, my dear. I will not stand by and see either of my nephews die. No matter what.”

I nodded, looking up into his kind eyes. “Arthur, how am I going to do this? How am I supposed to talk with Jason, knowing how deeply he regrets things he doesn’t need to regret, and how will I see David—how will I look into his eyes, knowing he believes he’s going to die?”

“You are strong, my dear. What David suffers for the fear of his own fate is, as far as I’m concerned, his own doing. He could have come to you—he could have come to me, but he chose to deal with this on his own. That is not your burden. And, as for Jason,” he said, walking me to his door. “Time heals hearts. He needs your friendship right now, and that is all. Do not try to reason with him, because it will only see him tunnel into his own proverbial shell. Just hold your tongue, bide your time, and I will see that everything will be all right in the end.”

I hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Arthur.”

“You are most welcome.” He patted my back then opened the door for me.

“And thank you, also, for…you know, for being okay after what I said to you the other day. I really need your friendship. It’s…it’s kind of all I have right now.”

“You will always have my friendship, Amara. Even if your words have destroyed my heart, I will be here for you.”

I smiled up at him once, then walked down the corridor, wiping my face dry, nodding to convince myself I was okay.

Chapter Eighteen

The wind subsided as the doors closed behind us and we walked, our feet clonking up the steel steps through the barrel of the lighthouse. All around us, the smell of damp, briny leather and engine fuel on heavy ropes reminded me of the time I went on a submarine, while a strong breeze coming down in howling gusts from the room at the top of the stairs weakened the scent the higher we climbed.

“How’s Arthur?” Jason asked.

I closed my eyes and took a breath, stepping more carefully, concentrating on the mind-blanket. “He’s okay now.”

“Was he unkind to you?”

“No. Why?”

“You’ve been crying. Your face is all red.”

I wiped it again, massaging my cheeks to help the blood-flow. “I was crying because he accepted my apology.”

“Apology for what?” He grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

My eyes met his for a second before I started walking again. “For saying I’d be sick if I slept with him.”

“You didn’t need to apologise for that, Ara!”

“Yes, I did. Well, maybe not for feeling that way, but at least for hurting him.”

“If he’s hurt by the way you feel about him, that’s his problem. Not yours.”

“Just drop it, okay.”

“No.”

I spun around. “Then I’m going back home to bed.”

“Okay.” He blocked my path, lowering his head to swallow his issues. “Fine. I’ll drop it. I’m sorry. I just—I don’t like it if you’re crying and I’m not there to make it okay.”