Bride of War (18+)

11

I soak in the tub across the hall from the main entrance, that rose in my hair, as I sink down into the water with a smile.

He's really too charming. Beautiful. My heart fluttered. He thinks I'm beautiful.

I mean I am but still—he thinks so.

I hear the door open. Slade never said he was leaving. I frown, glancing back, straining my ears. I open the door a crack, getting a perfect view of the entrance.

Slade is standing in front of a man. I roll my eyes. Of course, I didn't hear him.

"I'm home," a man stood at the entrance, his dark eyes lifting to Slade's frame.

Slade stood. "What are you doing here?"

"Just saying hello to my hero. Is that so wrong?"

The man is rugged, tall, nowhere near Slade's height, but tall. Why did he just let him walk in like that?

Hero? Do they know each other?

Slade sighs. "Well...what did I teach you? This is a temple. I am a god. Where's my offering?"

The man scoffed with a knowing smile, tossing a bottle of wine to Slade.

He looks at it, opening it. "I'll ask again. What are you doing here?"

He walks away and the man follows him, deeper into the temple. I get up, wrapping a towel around myself.

Slade has never spoken of knowing another human. I don't think Po is human. Who is this man and why does Slade look at him like that?

I follow them at a distance as they sit in a drawing-room, Slade pouring them each a glass of wine.

"I was in the mood for reminiscing. I haven't been here in so long. You look the same as you always have."

Slade's back tenses. I want to see his expression.

"Well...of course I do. And you...you look well. Are you taking care of yourself?"

He shrugs. "Would it matter either way?" He sips on his wine. "I find myself thinking of my childhood, so I wandered back here? Take in any new orphans?"

Slade says nothing.

Slade looked down, his hand around a glass of wine. "I needed a solider, Dion. And you...you wanted a father. I've never had one, I don't know how to be one. Nor, at that time, did I wish to be."

Dion leaned back. "Well then, I suppose we're both disappointed, aren't we?"

Dion leaned back. "I always wonder why you did that. That day? Shared your power with me?"

Slade's gaze flicked down the drink.

"There's a story. I used to tell it to you when you were a boy. The sword of Damocles. A sword dangles over a man's head. He doesn't get up."

Dion nodded.

"I created you. Sure, you are a cancer to humanity, a menace and by all accounts, you threaten the balance of this world. But...you are my sword."

Dion scoffed. "How narcissistic of you."

Slade shrugged. "Should I ever...go astray, I created you. To neutralize me."

Dion pursed his lips. "So...you rescued me. Took me in. Raised me, trained me. Made me into...this...so that I could kill you just in case?"

Slade stood. "Kill? No, boy, never in any of the days I have lent to you, could you ever muster the strength to kill me."

Slade's hand fell heavily on Dion's shoulder. "Neutralize."

"Then how about I neutralize myself," Dion called.

Slade paused. "What?"

Dion sighed. "You never told me...you never told me how lonely the years would be. You never warned me I would watch everything and everyone I ever dared to love, die. Outgrow me."

Slade sighed. "I am not human. How could I tell what I didn't know? That is not my experience. I came to be, and continue to exist. I didn't know...it would be agony for you."

"Well, it is. So you'd better get some new orphan as your contingency plan."

Slade frowned. "You must not act hastily, Dion—"

"Hasty? There's no such thing. I've been ruminating over this for 200 years. And it is time."

Dion stands, patting Slade's shoulder. Walking past him.

Slade frowns. "For what's it worth...we're not both disappointed. I am proud of you, Dion."

Dion's lips tug up. "Yeah...thanks, Slade."