The Lost Heirs Vendetta

Chapter 50: The Breaking Point

Brock was dead. I couldn't even believe it. The only person who ever cared about me. The only person who believed in me. It was all too much.

When I picked up his hands, they were cold as ice. I wondered how long he had been dead for. How long it had been since someone snuck into his room and slit his throat. I just hope it wasn't painful.

Though the evidence was clear that there was a fight. If the assassin was kind enough to at least kill him in his sleep, Brock would still be in bed. He'd still look as though he was sleeping.

Except for the obvious red cut across his neck.

But no, Brock was clearly awake when it happened. His blankets were disheveled and he was even holding a knife of his own, I noticed. He must have had enough time to realize that someone was about to kill him and was able to reach for his own blade but by the time he got it, it was too late.

The room was silent except for my sobs. I didn't know what Brylee's reaction was or Bri's. I only knew that Brock was dead and there was no one who could ever replace him. Ever.

At some point, I think I felt someone's hand on my arm trying to comfort me and then I heard footsteps running out of the room. I don't know who it was or what they were doing. I didn't care.

But whoever stayed with me slowly tried to break apart Brock's hand from mine. I didn't realize how tightly I was clenching his hand until I let go.

A couple minutes later, the footsteps came running back and I heard two sets of breaths enter the room.

"Over here," a voice said. I realized that it was Brylee who left in such a rush. To retrieve who, I had no idea.

Whoever she brought with crouched down next to me and turned my head to look anywhere but at Brock's cold, dead body.

I was met with that familiar black hair and blue eyes. It was Darian.

Something like relief washed over me that he was here.

"Bri," he said looking at her now, "can you please cover his body with something? A blanket, a towel, anything will do. Just... cover it. Please."

Bri complied with Darian as I heard her own footsteps walk away in search of something to cover his body with.

I assumed she would just grab the blankets from his bed and cover him that way.

Darian tried to get me on my feet but I refused to move. To leave Brock.

All I could think about was how I failed. I failed to be there for him. He was always there for me when I was down or when Amora would tease me. And now, when he needed me most, I wasn't there. The least I could do was be there for him now. Even if he's dead.

"What on Earth is going on here?"

My body suddenly tensed. I hadn't even thought about what this could mean for my parents. Brock was the only male child they had left, and now he was dead. Coronation was just around the corner and they had no male contenders for the throne anymore.

I would bet anything that they were going to choose him.

Fathers' heavy footsteps made their way across the room to where I was slumped on the ground next to Brock.

"Aleah," he said looking at me and the redness around my eyes. I could see his gaze shift to Darian, "You," he said with disgust and anger.

When no one said anything, he continued.

"Who is under there, Aleah?"

I didn't answer. I only shook my head. I knew he knew. There was no point in asking. I didn't want to say it. I didn't even want to look under the blanket at Brock's cold and lifeless body again.