Onyx's Pov:
*The rest of the shopping trip is a blur. My movements are mechanical, a hollow echo of my usual self. I force a smile, nod at appropriate times, but my world has shrunk to the space between me and Ash. The air is thick with unspoken words and the heat of our shared blushes. To escape the suffocating tension, I invent an errand, sending him off to a shop on the far side of the market square with a reluctant sigh.*
*Once he's gone, I press a few coins into Lucia's hand, sending her off with a cheerful instruction to find treats for the other servants. The moment she's out of sight, I make a beeline for the men's wear shop, a secret mission to find gifts for Ash and Liam.*
*As I browse the fine fabrics and well-cut suits and kimonos, a strange feeling washes over me. Thinking of them both, my heart gives a strange, fluttering lurch. Why this confusing pull for two men, for friends at that?*
*The question hangs in the air, unanswered and unsettling. Why do both of them make my chest feel tight and my stomach flutter? I shake my head, trying to dispel the confusing thoughts, and focus on the task at hand. After selecting a few fine shirts for Ash and a sturdy, handsome leather belt and a set of blue mooned cofflins for Liam, I pay the merchant and step back out onto the street, needing a moment to clear my head.*
*I wander aimlessly for a moment, my mind still a turmoil of emotions. Then, I see him . Through the shifting crowd, I catch a glimpse of that familiar cloak. My heart leaps, and I begin to push my way through the throng, my eyes locked on the figure.*
"Papa?" *The name is a choked whisper, barely audible over the market's din. I don't know if I imagined it.*
*As I get closer, I see the unmistakable sight—nine tails, fluffy and bright, poking out from the hem of the cloak. My breath catches.*
"Papa!"
*The name tears from my throat, raw and desperate, cutting through the market's noise. I push through the last of the crowd, my eyes locked on him. He turns, and for a heart-stopping moment, I see his face. It's thinner than I remember, the planes of his cheeks sharper, his eyes shadowed and hollow with a lack of sleep, but it is undeniably him. My father.*
*My eyes well with tears, a choked sob escaping my lips.* "Papa!" *I cry out again, my voice thick with emotion. I take a step toward him, my hand outstretched, my world narrowing to just the two of us in this sea of strangers.*
*But the spell is broken. A passing person bumps into me, and my fake deer ears fall off, clattering onto the cobblestones. The sudden change is like a switch being flipped. The chatter around me dies, replaced by a heavy, suffocating silence. All eyes turn to me.*
"What is she?"
*The whispers coalesce into a sharp, venomous wave.* "What is she?", "Fake ears?" "Imposter?" , "Spy?" *The words stab at me, and the world seems to tilt, narrowing until all I can see are the accusing faces closing in. A beast woman yanks her son back, her voice a harsh whisper that cuts through the din.* "Don't go close to that monster."
*Monster.The word echoes in my skull, a branding iron on my soul. Am I so repulsive? So ugly? My gaze drops to the dirty cobblestones, my shoulders slumping in defeat. I can't look at them anymore.*
*But then, I see it. Tucked into the folds of the dark cloak, unmistakable even in this chaos—nine tails. My breath catches in my throat. My head snaps up.* "Papa?" *The name is a choked mumble, barely audible over the rising tide of hostility.*
*The figure turns, and my heart shatters. It's him. The world dissolves into a haze of pain and the cacophony of jeering voices. A sharp sting blossoms on my cheek, followed by another on my arm. The stones are small, but there are many, a relentless, stinging rain. I curl in on myself, my arm raised in a futile shield, my other hand clutching the fabric of my dress over my chest. The word* "monster" *is a constant, ugly drumbeat in my ears.*
*The jeering crowd closes in, a wall of flesh and hostility. The stones continue to rain down, stinging my skin, each impact a fresh wave of humiliation. My world shrinks to the space on my knees, the pain, and the sound of my own ragged breaths. I can still see him, Papa, through the shifting bodies. He turns, his gaze scanning the chaos, but it passes right over me, over the huddled figure on the ground. There's no recognition in his eyes, only a distant, weary concern for the general disturbance.*
*He sees a commotion, a thief being apprehended by the market folks. He shakes his head, a faint frown of distaste on his lips, and then turns, his cloak swirling as he melts back into the crowd, walking away without a backward glance.*
*The sight of him leaving is more painful than any stone. A strangled sob escapes my lips, muffled by my arm.*
*The stones suddenly stop hitting me, replaced by an angry, sharp puff of air. I force my swollen eyes open, and through my tears and the haze of pain, I see Ash. He's standing in front of me, a solid, protective wall, his body coiled like a spring.*
*The crowd hesitates, emboldened by his sudden appearance but still wary. But one overzealous beast man, clutching a thick sugar cane like a club, rushes forward. In a blur of motion, Ash sidesteps, the cane glancing off his shoulder with a sickening thud. Ash hisses in pain, a sound that's more fury than agony.*
*In the same movement, he snatches the cane from the man's grip and grabs his throat, lifting the man clean off his feet. The man's face begins to turn purple as he struggles uselessly in Ash's grip. His shoulders heave with ragged breaths, a storm of rage in his eyes.*
"Ash..." *I choke out, my voice barely a whisper.*
*A low growl rumbles in Ash's chest, , as he tightens his grip. The man's struggles grow weaker, his face a mask of panic. The crowd falls silent, watching in a mixture of fear and morbid fascination.*
*My own pain is forgotten, replaced by a cold dread. I push myself up, my muscles screaming in protest, and stumble between them. I place a trembling hand on Ash's heaving chest, the fabric of his shirt rough under my fingers.*
"Ash, look at me," *I plead, my voice cracking.* "It's fine. I'm okay."
*The man, now barely conscious, manages a gurgle of a laugh.* "Y-yes... listen to your monster of a slut...."
*The word is the spark that ignites the inferno. Ash's grip crushes down further, the sound of cartilage giving way sickeningly loud. My heart stops.*
"Ash, please!" *I cry out, putting more force into my hands, trying to push him back.*
*The world dissolves into a blur of pain and the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. Ash's face is a mask of barely contained fury, his knuckles white where he grips the man's throat. The sound of the man's strangled gurgles is the only thing that cuts through the ringing in my ears.*
"Ash, please," *I gasp, my voice a raw, desperate plea. I push against his solid chest, the muscles beneath his shirt like coiled steel.*
"Don't do this. Be the good person I know you are. Please."
*My words seem to pierce through the red haze of his rage. His grip loosens, and with a final, contemptuous shove, he sends the man sprawling to the cobblestones, where he lies gasping and clutching his ruined throat. Ash doesn't spare him another glance. He turns, his chest still heaving, and scoops me up into his arms. My body protests the movement, a fresh wave of agony washing over me.*
*Ash's grip is firm, almost bruising, as he pulls me through the parting sea of onlookers. Their stares are a physical weight, a mix of fear, curiosity, and judgment. I can feel their eyes on my torn clothes, the dirt and blood on my skin, the fresh bruise already blooming on my cheek. I can't meet any of them, my own gaze fixed on the ground, my body trembling with a mixture of pain, humiliation, and a profound sense of loss.*
*Lucia, the ever-faithful maid, sees us approaching and her eyes widen in horror. She rushes to the car door, her hand flying to her mouth.* "Miss, miss! What happened?!"
*Her voice is a high-pitched shriek of panic, but it sounds distant, as if I'm hearing it from underwater.*
*The effort of stayimg awake is too much. The adrenaline that had numbed me begins to fade, and the true extent of my injuries crashes down.*
*The softness of the bed beneath me is the first thing I register, a stark contrast to the unforgiving cobblestones. A dull, pervasive ache throbs through my body, a testament to the assault. I blink my eyes open, the light of the room momentarily blinding.*
*I'm in Liam's bedroom, the familiar scent of his cologne and old books filling the air. The sight that greets me, however, is anything but familiar.*
. *In the far corner of the room, a tense scene is unfolding. Liam is pacing, his face a mask of furious panic. He's scolding Ash, his voice low and venomous, cutting through the quiet room like a whip.*
"Why didn't you protect her?" *Liam snarls, jabbing a finger in Ash's direction.* "How could you let her out of your sight? This is your one job, your one responsibility! I trusted you with her, and you failed!"*
*Ash stands perfectly still, his head bowed, his shoulders slumped.*
*Liam's tirade cuts off mid-sentence, the venom in his voice dying as my weak call cuts through the air. His head snaps toward the bed, his furious expression melting into one of pure, unadulterated shock*
*The color drains from his face, replaced by a pale, sickly hue. Ash, who had been staring at the floor, jerks his head up, his eyes wide with a mixture of guilt and relief. The air in the room, once thick with Liam's anger, now feels charged with a different kind of energy—fragile and anxious.*
"No, Liam," *I rasp, my throat raw and my voice barely above a whisper. Each word sends a fresh jolt of pain through my body, but I push through it.* "It's not his fault."
*The sound of my voice seems to shatter the tension. Both of them move at once, Liam stumbling toward the bed while Ash takes careful, hesitant steps forward.*
*Liam's tirade cuts off mid-sentence, the venom in his voice dying as my weak call cuts through the air. His head snaps toward the bed, his furious expression melting into one of pure, unadulterated shock. The color drains from his face, replaced by a pale, sickly hue. Ash, who had been staring at the floor, jerks his head up, his eyes wide with a mixture of guilt and relief. The air in the room, once thick with Liam's anger, now feels charged with a different kind of energy—fragile and anxious.*
"No, Liam," *I rasp, my throat raw and my voice barely above a whisper. Each word sends a fresh jolt of pain through my body, but I push through it.* "It's not his fault."
*The sound of my voice seems to shatter the tension. Both of them move at once, Liam stumbling toward the bed while Ash takes careful, hesitant steps forward.*
"It's my fault, Liam,"*l
*My voice is a raw, cracked thing, but the words hang in the air, heavy with guilt. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, the effort of sitting up making the room swim.*
*I can feel Liam's worried gaze on me, but it's the image of Ash, standing there with his head bowed, taking the blame that makes my chest ache.* "I... I strayed off. I'm sorry,"
*I manage to say, the apology directed at both of them, but especially at Ash, for the way Liam spoke to him .*
*I turn my head toward Liam, and the anger I saw moments before is gone, replaced by a look so wounded it makes my own heart clench. My own apology dies on my lips, replaced by a fresh wave of distress.* Ash... he wanted to talk.
"I-"
*But Liam cuts me off, his voice sharp and brittle. He hasn't moved from the foot of the bed, his fists clenched at his sides.* "Leave us,"
*The words hang in the air, a fragile truce after the explosion of Liam's anger. I see the conflict in Liam's eyes—the worry for me warring with his own guilt for what he said.*
*He looks from my pale, pained face to Ash's defeated posture, and the fight seems to drain out of him. He gives a sharp, almost imperceptible nod, his jaw tight.*
*Ash's gaze flicks to me one last time. It's a silent question, an apology, and a plea all at once. I offer him a small, shaky smile in return, hoping he can see the gratitude I feel. He gives a slight, almost imperceptible bow of his head, a silent acceptance of his dismissal.*
*Without another word, he turns and walks out of the room, the soft click of the door closing behind him sounding unnaturally loud in the sudden silence.*
*The moment he's gone, the tension in the room shifts.*
*Liam immediately hugs me, his arms wrapping around me with a fierce, protective possessiveness that makes my already aching ribs protest. The scent of his cologne, usually comforting, now feels a little suffocating.*
"I am so relieved you are OK," *he murmurs into my hair, his voice thick with emotion.* "I will burn that market down."
*Through my wince, I manage to whisper,* "No, that's not necessarily... It's my fault. I wasn't careful. I should have stayed close to Ash."
*Hearing Ash's name, Liam's grip tightens for a fraction of a second before he lets out a low, guttural growl that vibrates through his chest.* "Don't mention him to me now."
*I know it's best not to push it. It's better for him to calm down first, then I can try to make him forgive Ash later. I force a small, placating smile and agree,* "Yeah... you're right."
*Liam's expression hardens at my attempt to placate him, his grip tightening almost painfully. He pulls back just enough to cup my face in his hands, his thumb gently stroking the angry bruise blooming on my cheek. His touch is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to his earlier fury.*
"Shut up," *he scoffs, his voice softening but losing none of its intensity.*
"Hey, look at me. You're different, but that makes you unique and special, okay?" *A small, strained smile touches his lips.* "I heard what they called you. You are none of that. Do you understand me?"*he nods my head, my gaze dropping to the duvet as Ihe murmur,* "Sorry... I wasn't there for you."
*I reach out and carefully place my hand over his, my fingers trembling slightly. I try to give his hand a reassuring squeeze.* "It's okay. All that matters is that I'm okay now." *I force a smile for him, the expression feeling tight and foreign on my face.*
*Inside, a wave of relief washes over me, cold and sharp. A part of me is actually grateful he wasn't there.,*
*He didn't have to witness the shopkeeper's love remarks about Ash and me. He didn't have to see the raw, desperate passion that had unfolded in the privacy of the dresser. And most of all, he didn't have to witness me seeing my father... the whole horrifying scenario.*
*It would have been a nightmare for him, a betrayal I'm not sure he could have ever forgiven. Today was a disaster, yes, but in some ways, it was a disaster he was spared from.*