The Alpha King Marked Me. I Still Haven't Told Him I'm A Girl novel Chapter 112

Chapter 112: One Hundred & Twelve

Valka

My head felt like it was filled with wool. And my lashes fluttered against the sound of new voices in the bedroom.

"I’ve never seen anything like it," a wizened voice muttered. "I can only help soothe the ache that comes with it. If it is a battle of wills, there is not much that can be done, save for the intervention of the gods. You may take Majda with you to keep an eye on her..."

A bit of quiet. The voices grew further out, leaving the room altogether. My lashes fluttered and my vision swam. I was in a cave, an alcove. The ache in the back of my head was unbearable. I tried to push up from the bed and ended on the ground.

"You should not rise. You are unwell..." A soft voice said, but there were many voices.

Around me. Inside me.

Murderer. Liar. Witch. Lycan-whoring cunt. Gritting my teeth, I closed my hands over my ears, whimpering. "Shut up."

"Lyra! Please!" It was Malachy. He was pleading. He was screaming. The sound was a wretched cry, taking half my mind with it. "The goddess curses you to an eternity of damnation, you fucking freak!"

Water swam in my vision and I walked half-hazardly, the room tripling. It took me a moment to find the door. And just as my hand closed around it, the voices returned. The voices from outside the room. It sounded like Lucien. It sounded like a woman. But it all entwined with the voices of the ghosts that have haunted my nightmares for days.

"What will you do with her?" asked the woman, light footsteps dragging against stone.

"End it," Lucien said.

My breath caught. End it.

He’ll kill you. Remember how he looked at you. With hatred. How could anyone love you? You’re a monster.

He loves her. Not you. You will die the worst kind of death. Trapped within the confines of your mind. You will scream but no one will hear you. You will beg, but no one will come to your aid. You will wither slowly. It will take an eternity, and you will watch your body live through eyes that no longer belong to you, until you cease. It is what you deserve. It is the only thing you deserve.

"She’s suffering. If this continues, she’ll destroy herself."

Destroy. Me.

The woman murmured something--maybe "You love her," maybe "You owe her." The words twist in the air.

"That isn’t her anymore," he said, and the words landed like claws dragging through my chest. A pause, heavy, thick with grief. "It’s mercy. She won’t feel a thing."

Mercy. The word rang like a bell in my head. Mercy meant death.

The voices wouldn’t stop. They crawled over the walls, slipped under my skin. He’ll kill you. He’ll do it for her. He’ll put you down like an animal.

My palms pressed to my temples, but I could still hear him. That deep, soothing voice that I had been foolish enough to assume to be safety. I was such a fool. I was right. I never should’ve trusted him with it.

Run. Run before he ends you.

My gaze ran over the room, settling on the black scabbard resting against the bedframe. I went straight for it, the healer in the white shift by the bed steering clear of my path. A wave of dizziness crashed into me, sending me sprawling into a tray of herbs. The scent of crushed sage filled my head, too sweet, too sharp. I couldn’t breathe.

The sword was heavier than I remembered. Or maybe my hands were weaker. The hilt throbbed in my palm like a living thing. My heartbeat slammed against it, out of sync, out of time.

The whispers grew louder. He’ll kill you. He’ll kill you. He’ll kill you.

Urgent footfalls. Someone ran. Something moved in the doorway. His silhouette. Broad shoulders. Familiar stance. "Put that down--"

I swung without hesitation. It was off kilter. Missed him by mere inches. "Get away from me."

He stepped back, hand raised like I was an animal he didn’t want to spook. That made it worse. I bolted out the door, through the hall, bumping into someone. Then the walls. Voices chased me, thousands of them, all speaking at once. His voice was among them. Or behind them.

The corridor bled into the open air. Cold. Wet. Rain so heavy it swallowed the world whole. It drenched me in seconds, chilling me to my bones. I had no horse. But I walked anyway, shivering. He caught up with me in seconds, grabbing my wrist and he wrenched me back. "Come back inside, Lyra. If you’re uncomfortable here, we can return home. Tomorrow. It’s cold. You won’t last the night out there."

My lips pulled back into a snarl. "Why? So you can kill me? End me?"

His jaw clenched. "You heard wrong--"

He’s lying. They always lie. They always say they love you, right before they strike.

I pried my fingers loose. "My life means as much to me as hers does to you. And I won’t let you take that from me. I have fought this long to preserve it. Do not think I will not hesitate to kill you if you tried."

"Do it, then."

I blinked. "What?"

He took the edge of the sword and brought it to his chest. "Run me through, if it is the only way to silence the noise in your head." I felt it cut through flesh and my fingers trembled as his eyes dared me to. The voices urged me on. Kill him before he kills you. When I didn’t, body trembling, he said more softly, "See me, Lyra. See me."

And I saw it. I saw the ache in his eyes. The want. But I also saw the hard set of determination in them. And I knew I hadn’t heard wrong. Angry tears ran down my cheeks as I fought against what I thought I knew, replacing it with the stark, ugly reality of us. "You’ve never wanted me. You want me because I’m her. You do not truly ache for me. You would get her back at any cost and bury me for it. And I do not want to live like that. I cannot." My grip tightened around the sword’s hilt, even as I lowered it. "I wish we’d never met."

But he laughed, voice spilling into my skull, repulsing and venomous. "Filthy, whoring cunt. Your blood is tainted. Your hands are tainted. You belong in the belly of the darkest dungeon, fucked and bred to birth more monsters."

Malachy sneered. "You should’ve died when I speared you. I will find your father and do to him what I would’ve done to you."

His lips moved, gentle, but I couldn’t hear the words, the image distorting, and the echo of Malachy’s hiss curling around my ears as he lifted bloodied, broken fingers, the glint of a spear flashing in the dark. "You never should’ve been born. Come, Lyra. Let’s die together."

My tears mingled with the rain. "I didn’t want this. It was you who wanted me gone."

"That isn’t--that doesn’t--you wanted me gone! Me!"

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