Kilian lied.

I'm livid by the time we burst through the inky darkness of Kilian's portal and onto snow; possibilities of why he'd lie swimming through my mind in scenarios.

I'm clutched in his grasp as we barrel into the snow, his arms cradling me against his chest as he shivers. I try to claw myself out of his reach, but he just tightens his grasp, his eyes searching mine— but I turn to look away at every opportunity, disgust and unease churning in my gut.

"Viola." His voice like silk sounds out, his eyes turn back to his familiar heated red. He grips onto my wet chin and turns my face to look at him; I clench my teeth, nose tempted to rise into a snarl. His eyes continue the search, confused as to what's happening, why I'd be so angry with him. He views himself as a prince who'd just saved me from a Raksha, as if I hadn't realized his plan after all.

Had he been deceiving me that entire time?

"What is it? Did it hurt you?" His faux concern tightens my gut, and I feel as if I'm going to be sick. His eyes latch onto my wounded arm, bloodied my the Raksha's sharp teeth as I hear my sister's shouts.

"Oh thank goodness!" She screeches, barreling through the clearing in the woods with Atticus hot on her heels.

"I thought he wouldn't be able to get to you in time— Merlin and Valdus stayed by the river just in case." She pants as she reaches us, frowning as she notices my gushing arm.

"He got to me at the perfect time." I say through clenched teeth as both Kilian and Claire furrow their eyebrows.

"I can heal this for you." He gets ready to touch my arm, but I quickly slither out of his grasp while the opportunity is still present. It's tense as everyone watches me get up, clutching my arm and hissing in pain.

"Vi?" Claire says cautiously, looking at my clenched fist warily. The eyeball, how could I forget? I outstretch my arm to her, and open my fist.

She squeals in disgust at the sight of it, turning away for a quick second.

"Fuck Viola! Can't you just give me a slight warning before you go showing off ripped eyeballs and hairy ballsacks from your trophy collection?!" She clutches her chest for a second, not expecting me to have an eyeball, of all things.

"It's the last of him." I say quietly.

She's still panting from her run and the shock as she raises her eyebrows at me in wonder.

"Why would you want the last anything from that thing?" She laughs as my face stays solemn, hardening like a brick at her humorous tone.

"Of our father." I say tightly, anger still coating every tendril of my body soaked in blood and dirty river water. What I say wipes the smile off of her face, a slow show of terror filling her eyes. I can expect her heart has dropped by now as Atticus reaches forward to bring her to him. She searches my eyes for any sign of a telltale joke, but I am deathly serious.

"I don't understand." Her voice wobbles, but she clears her throat and straightens her posture.

"I would explain, but I think Kilian would do us a whole lot better at that." I turn to him, bitterness in my tone. His eyebrows shoot up in shock, but he narrows his eyes at my tone.

"No Viola, I don't think I can." He says tightly, jaw clenching at my at my anger.

"Really?" I ask, sarcasm dripping out as I cross my arms over my chest.

"Really." He growls out, standing up from his position in the snow.

We're now nose to nose, chest to chest, both staring with accusing glares.

"I don't understand what's happening—" Claire whispers to Atticus as Kilian grinds his teeth.

"I think your darling sister is trying to accuse me of something." He says, eyes glaring down heatedly.

"After I just barreled into freezing waters and—" he starts, but I interrupt him.

"What do you want? A cookie? Should I bow in thanks to the almighty prince of the fucking underworld? The traitor?" I snarl as he flashes his teeth, losing his cool quickly.

"The only traitor I am is a traitor to the underworld, my kingdom, for you!" His voice is starting to raise, but I don't lower my stance in submission. I'm ready to go head to head and toe to toe, knowing what I know.

"I don't understand, you guys were just best friends— somebody tell me what's going on? Should we give you guys alone time, or—" Claire starts to ramble as me and Kilian stare at each other unflinchingly.

Finally, after a deep breath, I speak.

"You deceived us." My eyes cast themselves downward, watering for whatever reason there was. Maybe I still had dirty river water in them— maybe I'm hurt. Or just weak.

"The portal isn't across the river and into the woods in some graveyard. It's under the river itself, in the graveyard of bodies the Raksha has acquired." I say shakily, my adrenaline dying down.

I don't want to have this fight— not right now at least. I just want to catch up to my father, and tell him that it's too late. That the prophecy has already begun. Maybe he'll be able to tell me some information on demons, and why they're so believable.

After a moment of silence, Kilian's eyes soften and he bites his lip.

"I see." He says huskily. "You're hurt."

I glance up to him, wondering if those words were confirmation enough to the situation. Claire stands silently, awkwardly almost as she fiddles with her cloak. I hadn't realized how chilly it was, especially now that I was wet from the river.

"But you're wrong." Kilian says again, face solemn.

"If you'd trusted me instead of jumping to your own conclusions, you'd know that I hadn't lied. I simply told you what I'd read centuries ago and what I assumed myself— the portal was in some graveyard— how was I to know it'd be underwater and not Tenora?" His eyes search mine, begging me to believe him. Suspicion still taints me, but also— shame at the honesty in his words.

"Haven't you been to the portal before?" I ask, holding my breath for an answer. I hear Kilian's light breaths, watch as his eyes suddenly look void of emotion.

"It wasn't up to me which portals I went through back then. Or what I ate, who I talked to— what wrongs I did to others. None of it. It was up to the king to instruct me on how to act, who to be." He clarifies, bitterness coating the air as Claire goes and Atticus go stiff at the mention of the king.

"So I'll thank you to not accuse me of a deed I haven't done— I can't handle that—not from you." He finishes, jaw set seriousness.

His dark eyelashes shudder closed, as he nods at me slowly. Then, without another word from any of us, he turns and walks in the direction of the river; away from me. Atticus let's out a breath as the thick tension lifts from the air, moving in a dark cloud with Kilian. Guilt is heavy as I chew on my lip, knowing that I believe every word that came out of his mouth.

"So," Claire rocks on the balls of her feet as I silently fume, angry with myself and embarrassed.

"Let's make camp and strategize." She gives an unsure smile as I nod at her, emotions swarming and attacking me, too many to understand.

But one of them stands out specifically to me.

Compassion, for a demon who'd been bred and raised for the sole purpose of cruelty.

Yet, I'd been the cruel one.

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