Blood of Revenge

Chapter 23

"  Mental pain is less dramatic than physical one. But it is also more common and harder to bear. The frequent attempts in trying to conceal the pain increases the burden.

In other words: it is easier to say 'My tooth is hurting,' than to say that 'My heart is broken.'"

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"No," the word escaped my lips. "NO!"

I tried pushing Blayze away but his grip tightened. "Get a hold of yourself."

"I let her die! I let an innocent little girl DIE!"

My lower lip trembled at the thought, my hands going through my hair, tugging them from their roots. "Not again, not again!"

I shook my head. I was losing myself. How could this happen?

Blayze grabbed my chin and made my look at him—look into his eyes that stirred with emotions. "Calm down."

With that, he tucked me under his chin.

I grabbed a hold of his shirt's collars, sobbing hard with hitching breaths against his chest. I pulled onto them harder, my nails digging into his skin. Blayze caught onto my wrists to loosen my grip but I didn't want that.

"I'd fall," I rasped into his chest. "I'd fall if I let go. Because I can't let go of these feelings. i hold onto them. Even if they hurt, I want to feel this pain, even if it breaks me. I promised her—promised her that everything would be alright, just fine, that she'll be okay. That I'd protect her... I didn't! I couldn't. I broke my promise...... It should have been me."

The last line was a mere whisper.

I took in a trembling breath, gasping for the air I didn't deserve to breath.

"Does it hurt you too? When you lose someone you love? When you fail them?"

Blayze let out a long sigh as he rubbed my back, his fingers making their way through my hair, untangling the strands of my hair. "I'm human too, Astrid. I feel it too. But just like every pain, this, too, will pass. It will pass. It will pass."

For a moment it felt like he was telling this to himself.

A pause. "My mother was killed in front of me when I was eleven by my own father who taught me to be... who I am now. But it never stops hurting. The pain never gets less. All we can do is mask it. Pretend it never broke you as much as it really did. Show that you're over it even if the pain is crushing you, it's a burden upon you."

"I killed my father after a year or so. Choked him with his pillow in his sleep, he deserved it... but it hurts still because nothing can break the blood bond we had. I never forget the faces of those who I've killed because they will never forget who killed them."

I looked into his eyes and, for the first time, saw grief and pain stirring in them, saw through them and found a self-loathing soul they were hiding.

"I never wanted to be who I am right now. I still don't. I wanted to change but by that time, I had too many enemies—inside and outside my family. People who despised my father then despised me and people who respected him, when found out that I killed him, cursed me. I had to shut them out, had no other option. I didn't get time to change myself into who I was. . . . . . I-I miss myself."

I draped my arms around his neck, trying to soothe him just like he soothed me.

Together, in each other's arms were wrapped two broken souls. Broken in their own way by their own lives. Maybe they could heal each other.
Maybe.