Page 50 of Dream in Darkness
“If you all know he’s some sick, perverted fuck, why is he allowed to be here?” Tempest asks, her voice a plea.
“Because it’s not that simple,” I say, and everyone’s heads turnto me. “Hel has very few laws, same as Haeresis, but individual communities do. Could a member of your pack do this?”
Tempest shakes her head. “No. My Alpha would never allow that.”
“Could your Alpha prey on individuals like this, though?”
She stills. “I mean, theoretically, but he would never.”
“But he could,” Absinthe points out. “Sometimes we don’t agree with the rules our community has in place.”
“You’re not allowed to kill him?” Tempest asks, standing up and pacing the tent. She looks confused and stressed, and I want to comfort her, but now is not the time for that.
“Becoming a member of Hel’s Carnival, you agree to not cause death or bodily harm to other members of the carnival, lest you risk being exiled,” Draven begins to explain. “We have killed for this rule, and we will do it again.”
“If I kill him, you’ll kill me?” she asks.
“Unfortunately, yes,” he clarifies.
Tempest looks mad, and I can’t say I blame her. “So he’s just allowed to do whatever he wants with no consequences?”
“You think this doesn’t upset me? He fucks my sister on stage and then goes out and fucks other people without her knowledge. You think that doesn’t eat me up inside? Every day I wonder if I should just come clean and tell her, but I know it would destroy everything,” he says, and I swear there might be tears in Draven’s eyes.
I didn’t know that, and I don’t think Lilian does either. I just thought Baelor made creepy jokes, maybe indulged a little too much while flirting with the audience, but I wasn’t aware he was cheating. It hits me like the strike of a hammer.
“You’re not the only one. He was weird to me a few years back. Draven set him straight, and Baelor apologized, but it was not a great moment,” Gemma shares.
“And he’s left you alone since?” Tempest runs her fingers through hersilvery-white hair.
Gemma nods, and a somber silence covers us like a blanket of snow.
“Don’t you think Lilian deserves to know the truth?” I say, and Draven looks up at me. His eyes are broken and hollow, and I can tell I’m not going to like what he’s about to say.
“Of course she does, but then what?” his tone as sour as unripe fruit.
“She leaves him?” I shrug.
“And then is stuck working with her ex-husband, watching as he preys on younger women,” Reina cuts in.
“She could leave,” I suggest, and everyone shakes their head, including me. We all know that Lilian would rather do anything than go back home.
“She could kill him,” Tempest says, but Lilian isn’t strong enough for that.
Physically, Baelor could overpower her, but emotionally… she couldn’t do it emotionally, either. She genuinely loves that man. Even if he’s awful. Even if she knows deep down that he’s unfaithful. She won’t let it come to light. Not now, maybe not ever. Because if she admits it out loud, that makes it true, and she’d rather live in denial.
And I kind of don’t blame her. Would I want to give up years of my life, my job, and my marriage? Or would I rather pretend I don’t see it, and keep my eyes closed?
It’s hard to judge someone when you have never been in their position.
“She’s quite literally trauma-bonded to him,” Draven says. “To the point where she no longer sees the coercion or abuse.”
Long ago, long before any of us in this room were a part of Hel’s Carnival, there was a bit of a reckoning. Nobody’s ever told me the details, but nearly every member of the carnival was either killed or exiled, and that’s when these new rules came about. We protect our own, but we never considered that protecting one of our own might mean hurting another.
Tempest takes a seat beside me, her pink, rage-flushed face now replaced with concern.
“Have you guys not considered amending the rules?” Tempest asks, and I’ve been wondering the same.
There’s a part of me that’s hurt I wasn’t included in these conversations about Lilian and Baelor, that I haven’t been privy to this knowledge, but from the expression on Absinthe’s face, she wasn’t either. Maybe they’ve kept this from us because they knew we were too close to the source.
