KAMILA'S POV
"I thought you wanted nothing to do with me anymore. I'm the villain in your story, remember?" I say, my voice icy as I glare at him.
Yet all I really want is to draw closer to him and reconcile. I long for his embrace, for the closeness we once had, to put all this madness behind us.
"I can hardly ignore you for so long. You're my mate, after all," he replies with a strained smile.
I can tell he's got something heavy on his mind, something that warrants a long-ass conversation.
Although it gives me an uneasy feeling, I can't turn him away. I step forward, pulling my door open and stepping aside to let him enter.
He takes in my room-the ample space, the canopy bed on one end, the pastel purple walls, and the deep purple rug.
"It's been ages since I've been in here," he comments casually.
I don't say anything, but the sentiment is true. It's been far too long since he deemed me relevant enough to visit my room-a realization I've come to accept while finding solace in its quiet comfort.
Scoffing at his comment, I turn to meet his eyes.
"Are you finally done colluding with the human? My patience only runs so far, Artemis. As I've said before, Father will be visiting soon. Even if you have no plans to solidify our bond, at least afford me the decency of keeping some distance between yourselves for the time being."
I can't control him; I learned that lesson a long time ago.
The best I can do is let him have his way, as long as he eventually returns. He says nothing, forcing me to meet his gaze.
His eyes are downcast.
"Don't tell me you're feeling guilty about it now?" I tease, lightening the mood momentarily.
"Kamila... we need to talk," his voice emerges, solemn and strange.
I halt, my actions freezing as a sense of dread fills the pit of my stomach. The air between us shifts, thick with impending doom.
"Being serious doesn't suit you so well, Artemis."
He offers a soft chuckle and a small smile before meeting my eyes, which now hold a sad, pained expression.
"I'm sorry for everything, Kamila."
"Be more specific," I reply, folding my arms below my chest.
His forehead creases as he speaks.
"I'm sorry doesn't even begin to cover it. I know I've scarred you, Kam, repeatedly, in ways that words can't amend. When I was with those other girls, every moment with them was a betrayal to you-each second was a cut to your heart, and I know nothing could ever excuse that behavior. I was a brat, and I disrespected our bond, disrespected you. The gravest mistake of my life has been in complicating what should have been the most straightforward thing, instead of putting you through the hell of witnessing the worst parts of me. For every tear you've shed, every sleepless night, every moment of doubt and heartache-I am devastatingly sorry. And I know, I can see it in your eyes, an apology won't fix this. But if there's even a shred of a chance: I am unreservedly, undeniably, and heartbreakingly sorry for every single hurt I've given you."
The words leave his mouth in a single breath, and I feel it, the sincerity in every word.
I should be ecstatic that he's sorry, moved that he's possibly changed and wants to be better, right?
But the look with which he watches me remains sad, torn.
I know he's not just here to apologize.
I swallow.
"You're delirious if you think an apology could possibly salvage everything you've done."
"I know... I want to start somewhere at least, to make up for everything."
Another stretch of silence.
My bid to guilt trip him doesn't work; he doesn't budge with guilt or bite his lip.
Instead, he seems more at peace.
"You know me, Artemis. You don't have to do all these things; just come back to me and all would be forgiven," I say.
He remains silent again, saying nothing but frowning at the words, the way he looks at me piercing through my soul.
I panic, taking a step closer to dissuade him from whatever nonsense he's thinking about again.
"I love you, Artemis. For so many years, even when you were at your worst, when you were the rumored worthless prince, when no one saw anything worthwhile in you, I loved you."
"I'm bad for you, Kamila. Can't you see that? I can't stop hurting you over and over again; solidifying this bond will only make it worse. You'll only grow more bitter and resentful," he argues, gnashing his teeth with pain in his eyes.
Pain that's nothing close to what I have endured for both of us, nothing reaching the amount of what I have swallowed all on my own.
Tears prick my eyes, but I fight them; I fight desperately to maintain my calm.
That's right; we've had countless arguments where he threatened to end this, many more when it seemed like we were done, and we eventually pulled through.
This is just like the others.
"That's for me to decide if I want that or not, isn't it? I'm perfectly capable of figuring that out on my own," I wave my hand at him, turning to leave, but he grabs onto my arm softly.
"You're not happy, and I'm not either. Can't you see just how much pain you're in? How much pain we've both been in this past year?"
"We're mates; we're supposed to be together and weather through all the storms. All of this is natural," I argue.
He looks at me for a moment, searching my eyes for something, before he sighs and lets me go.
"We both know it's never felt natural. This bond tying us together has always been defective from the very beginning. I don't feel completely sired to you, and it's only waned over the last few years. I can't be happy, and you can't either."
It begins to dawn on me slowly: this feels different.
He's never had that look in his eyes the times we argued and decided not to break up.
The times he gave in and let it go on for another year, he never looked at me with so much gentle conviction.
I push at his chest, losing control of my own emotions. I feel desperation engulf me, and I realize I'm the only one holding on tight to what we have.
"What's with all this talk of happiness? Who cares about happiness? Don't tell me that vile slut is already feeding you her human nonsense!" I scream, bitterness seeping through each word.
His eyes grow livid for a second, like a beast, and he grabs at my shirt roughly, pulling me closer.
"Don't talk about her like that," he warns, his growl so feral and dangerous it seems he really would hurt me if I disrespected her royal loveliness in front of him.
My heart breaks, worse than ever.
Silence follows-a cold, pin-drop silence filled with nothing but his rushed, hateful breathing-until he realizes what he's doing and lets go.
Taking two steps away, he calms his breathing, running his hands over his face before looking at me again: calmer, but still tortured.
He has no idea what it really means to be tortured.
"We should end this once and for all. Please. Aren't you as tired as I am? Tired of all this pain and suffering we'd have to endure together for the rest of our lives. Don't you want to be free?"
The tears I've fought against win the battle, sliding down my cheeks as the well-cultivated mask over my emotions cracks for the second time in less than a day.
"You know nothing about pain and suffering. You have no idea about the desperate feeling of wanting freedom. You think you do, you wish you could even fathom it, but you can't. You've had everything given to you so easily," I spit out bitterly, realizing just how resentful I already am of him.
How easy it is for him to stand there and beg me to put an end to the only thing in this world that has ever brought me relief from my own terrors.
"Kamila, please..."
"No! You should belong to me; you should be mine. I loved you for so long, you should have fallen for me and not her!" I scream, all my cultivated patience and calmness thrown to the wind, tears pouring out of me like a faucet.
I cry hard, wail harder, so he sees what he's doing to me, so he changes his mind about everything.
So he loves me instead.
But the look never leaves his eyes; only pity stares back at me.
This really is the end, isn't it?
"I'm sorry," he begs, acting as though my torment affects him in the slightest when I know it doesn't.
He wants me this way.
"Get out! Get out of my room!" I yell, unable to bear the sight of those blue eyes any longer.
My heart feels like it's bleeding through my chest, and I clutch onto it, gasping for air amidst the tears that choke me.
My head hurts; the world around me spins.
"Kamila..."
"Leave!"
He flinches but lingers for a moment before finally turning to go.
How easy it is for him to abandon me.
I say one word, and he doesn't even fight that hard to stay. While I'm falling apart, he walks away after just a moment's hesitation.
Because I'm not worth fighting for, because I've never been worth anything to him.
And yet, he was my light, my hope in the darkness that is my life.
He was my everything.
I sniffle and sneeze.
"You really mean it this time, don't you?" I mutter, just as his hand reaches for the doorknob, twisting it.
He stops, frozen in his tracks, silent.
His silence is a resounding 'yes'.
"Fine," I spit out bitterly.
I won't be a burden you're shackled to anymore, not if you don't want me.
"Let's put an end to this mate bond."