Taming Darkness

~Porter-

That conniving brat has to be lying! I know what Darius showed me. My wife was nothing but a scheming whore. That woman never deserved me, and neither did her bastard child! I'm not the one in the wrong here; I'm the victim! My entire family died because of the mutt she was involved with before me. I threw my entire life away to be with her, only for her to f**k around behind my back! All those visions?

LIES.

I storm down the hall, fury pulsing through my veins until I spot Lydia in the lab, surrounded by vials on every shelf and counter. She inspects one, examining the contents, holding it up to the light as I barge in. She doesn't even bother to glance up.

I can feel a vein in my forehead pulsing as I confront Lydia. "Did you know about my wife? Did you know Lysander was behind it? That he used her, and that your husband used her?" I snarl, unable to suppress the rage that courses through my entire being. I need her to verify that this is all a lie, so I can focus on more important work.

Lydia chuckles, swishing her little vial around. "Did you believe you were kept on because you're just so highly valued and skilled?" she giggles.

In shock from her words, I blinked at her, shocked by her words. "Pardon?"

She smiles coyly and sets down the vial on the counter in front of her, gesturing vaguely around the laboratory before leaning forward as if to share a secret.

"Oh, Porter. What is it you offer in any of these fields? You've always played the fool; the idiot, she was the smart one. You are a sloppy drunk; worthless, really. Furthermore, you were scheduled to be sacked forever ago. That woman begged and pleaded on your behalf. Xandrious wanted to kill you, but because of Lycus being Lysander's son, he spared you, knowing Karla wouldn't hand over Lycus when he came of age." She shrugs as she holds the vial up, gazing at its contents before setting it down.

"I always thought people exaggerated when they described someone offering 'anything' to protect loved ones. Karla was on her knees instantly, hands clasped, begging me to keep you on. Quite frankly, I think she wasted her time; she would have been better off with you dead."

"It did infuriate me when she offered herself up to my husband, although sharing her was fun. Bitch is good at eating p***y," Lydia snickers.

I feel bile rise in my throat and my hands clench. Is everything Aleera showed me true? My stomach turns at the thought. I want to kill Lydia, but she remains unfazed by my presence, not even turning to face me.

"Honestly, Porter, your wife had more c***s than she had holes for; ask half the council. Most took turns on her. She's the only reason you didn't get the death sentence when you robbed Xandrious and betrayed him. She's also the only reason Greyson stopped your a's from being put in the incinerator."

This has to be some sick joke.

"You never questioned where the extra money came from? Really, Porter? What secretary do you know earns what she did?"

"It was her inheritance money. She came from a well-off family," I tell her.

"Yes, she did... But when Karla left Lysander, that money went to him. He made sure she earned it back, don't you worry. He put her on her knees if she wanted to feed her son-feed your pathetic a*s, since you were only good for gambling every cent you earned." I stare at her. The mocking smile on her lips, the way she sets back the dark amber liquid in that vial on the shelf before grabbing another, and turning toward me. These mimic what I've seen my friends do when they're excited to watch a fight. Yet, she is not my friend. She is my boss. She knows about my mate, so why is she saying such things? Is my boss really claiming that what happened to my mate is my fault? That can't be possible. She must be lying. There's no way in hell that whore would stoop that low for me; she did it because she liked it. She wanted to trick me into raising her bastard son! Lydia and her daughter are both liars, and I refuse to believe either of them.

"No, you're lying!" I snarl in warning at her.

She sets her vial down and turns toward me, hands on her hips and a mocking smile on her lips.

"Did you know Lysander was to be the one to take your head? You weren't going to be merely fired, of course; you were to be executed, and he was the one in charge of that. In fact, if she hadn't spread her legs for him, you wouldn't be standing here and sharing my air. From what I've heard of that night, she was highly skilled. She impressed him so much that she was passed around like a party favor; everyone got a taste, and you got a promotion from it. You could say Karla sucked and f****d your way to the top," Lydia snickers.

"Don't worry, though. She was paid afterward. She did take half the office that night after all," she adds.

I stare past her, attempting to let her words sink in. I was certain she'd deny it instantly; that she would tell me that daughter of hers was lying. But that's not what she's saying. She almost seems proud of it. Proud of using my wife like everyone else did. "She should have left you to your fate, Porter. She was more useful to me than you've ever been. Alas, she tried to save your life, and how did you repay her?" She shakes her head and tsked. "Killed by the very man she was trying so desperately to save. Such a pity." My fingers twitch. I hit my limit. I can't listen to another word she says. All I can think about is every moment I'd spent with my mate before I'd turned on her. Every smile, every caress, every kiss. When Darius showed me, showed me her infidelity, not once did I question her reason behind it. I feel foolish...

A growl tears out of my throat, and I lunge at Lydia. As I try to wrap my hands around her throat, she blasts me with her magic, knocking me back onto the table. Some of her precious vials shatter beneath my weight, while others crash to the floor. I grunt, get to my feet, and stagger to get back to her. With a grunt, I rush at her again, shoving her into the shelves when something stabs me in the side of my chest. I glance down to see a syringe sticking out, the plunger already pressed. My vision tunnels as I fall heavily to the floor, the contents are taking instant effect.

Lydia laughs. "Did you really think I wasn't ready for this? You really are pathetic. You deserve to suffer and die," she sneers. Breathing becomes difficult, and my vision fades in and out. I can barely make out Lydia walking away, leaving me on the ground amid her broken beakers and science equipment.

I claw the ground, dragging myself to the foot of the counter, and struggle to lift myself off the ground. More vials teeter from their place above me. I stare up at one that's behind thick glass and freeze. I close my eyes tight and reopen them in case it will change what I'm looking at.

The writing on the vial is simple, but it makes my blood turn to ice in my veins. Inside the case are four rows of vials.

Patient Zero virus.

Plague one. Plague two.

Plague three.

All this time, I had truly believed Xandrious had started the plague-that he'd started everything. I sag against the counter. I was a fool. No, worse than that, I was a murderer. I'd killed my wife and placed my son in a situation to lose his life and his mate. And for what? Because of a lie.

One that I'd used to justify killing her and destroying Lycus. All of this was my fault. I deserve death for everything I've done and for so much more. Yet, I need to hold on long enough to pass on this proof. My life has been wasted, but I'm not about to let that twisted bitch get away with what she has done. Though, as I peer up at the case, I can hardly move.

Breathing feels like an almost impossible task. But I know if the plague is in here, so is the cure. That is how she keeps her soldiers alive, why they're loyal to her. She is the only thing that keeps them from death. She is the only one who knows how to create the cure. It's how she controls them.

Time flies by as I try to focus on breathing. My limbs twitch and cramp when I move, but I force myself to grip the counter and haul myself up. Catching my breath, I turn my gaze to study the rest of the shelves. From the corner of my eye, I spot it. Hope blooms in my chest. Not for me, but for the future of the Fae. It's up above me, but I can just make it out. Aleera's name is stamped across it as well as numbers, and more importantly, it has the word antidote.

I muster all my strength into standing as high as I can, reaching for it, grasping the precious bottle, and clutching it to my chest, then falling back down in the process. She is mistaken if she thinks I will die quietly for her in a corner. I will hold on a little longer; I owe Karla that much, at the very least.