Pherenike - Chapter 19

“I don’t care what he wants.”

“You owe him a debt in your name. What do you think he’ll want!?”

“It really doesn’t matter. I’ll give whatever it takes.”

Deucalion’s eyes darkened for a moment. She raised her hand and tenderly stroked his face.

“Because you’ve lived like this.”

“…So you’ve already given it away, haven’t you?”

“He proposed to me.”

“Pherenike.”

“I… accepted it.”

His face seemed to want to scream or maybe even strangle her. The woman held his gaze, boiling with an uncanny vitality. Ironically, his miserable anger made him seem more alive.

“It’s just a nominal trade. He keeps me as a hostage instead of you, and I send you to Paetusa.”

“Actor, he wants you.”

“That’s why it’s better.”

“To become my brother’s wife?”

Deucalion began to laugh. You as Actor’s hostage… Not knowing how that bastard watched you all this time. Do you even realize how naive that sounds…?

“Or did you not care?”

“…”

“Pherenike. Even while loving me.”

“Yes. Because I love you.”

“…”

“I want you. Regardless of what Actor Nikandros wants, whether you want it or not. I want only you. Deucalion. Cal, please.”

I only wish for your life… Before she could finish, he captured her lips roughly.

His large hand gripped her waist, pressing her onto the bed. Pent-up breath pressed into her mouth, like swallowing waves. Her throat burned.

Deucalion cupped her face with one hand, pressed her delicate cheeks into his grasp and spread her lips wider with his thumb. The kiss that blatantly wrapped her tongue was more about possession than love.

He had never kissed her like this before their first night together.

“Let’s leave, okay?”

“It won’t be over until you enter Paetusa Castle.”

“It’s okay. We can just leave. Leave everything behind.”

“This isn’t just about saving you. You’ll be rightfully released soon. Paetusa won’t be lost either. Actor Nikandros promised me. All your rights and status…”

“So, you became my brother’s woman yourself.”

“…”

“To give me back all those things, you sold yourself.”

Deucalion laughed bitterly.

“Pherenike. You should have let me die.”

Pherenike froze like a pillar of salt.

Ridiculous. She was here because she couldn’t leave that be. Even if she died, she couldn’t bear to see him die, so she came here after death.

What do you know? What do you know about dying, about what you lost when you died.

What do you know about me?

Pherenike suddenly trembled and raised her body. Deucalion immediately caught her arm, pulling her down.

His broad shoulders cast a large shadow that engulfed Pherenike all at once. But her eyes blazed, even under the shadow of Deucalion.

Pherenike looked straight at him and asked, “Cal, do you want to know what it feels like to see you die before my eyes?”

“…”

“It’s simple. Right now, I’ll die in front of you.”

“…”

“If you take me anywhere instead of going to Paetusa, I swear on everything I have to the goddess, I will die before your eyes. By any means necessary.”

Pherenike’s breath as she made the vow was momentarily suffused with Althea’s light. It could have been a daemon’s trick, playing with humans.

But regardless of the light’s true nature, a vow made by someone like her could never be undone.

Sybylle heard the goddess’s voice, and the goddess heard Sybylle’s. She was Sybylle, destined to become Kybellaune, the goddess’s beloved.

The despair invoked by her single sentence instantly engulfed Deucalion’s mind. Pherenike was not just uttering empty words or swearing on imaginary lions and ash trees.

She had bet herself to the goddess, just like the king once staked his eldest son in a vow. Real vows always involve staking something one possesses.

Now, she was a sacrificial offering on the altar. Deucalion understood this. Pherenike had bound herself to save him.

Staring blankly at the light fading into the void without light, like a statue left in ruins, Deucalion slowly looked down at her. Hatred and loathing filled his eyes as he looked down at Pherenike. But soon, a vast self-loathing consumed them completely.

He propped himself up beside Pherenike’s head, barely catching his breath. His silver hair fell around her like a collapsing curtain.

Tears from Deucalion’s eyes fell onto Pherenike’s eyes. He was crying silently.

She knew Deucalion still wished for death, perhaps feeling like he was already dead.

“Cal.”

Deucalion suddenly came to his senses and tried to rise while gritting his teeth. Pherenike grabbed his arm, but he roughly shook her off.