Many things could drive a person to change so drastically. He knew that, understood it, and had taken that as an answer to why he'd changed. Then he didn't think of it no more. Now his eyes had changed back. Why now? After all these years? Only two answers seemed possible. It could be finally having Arianna or seeing his brother. His mind felt scrambled with wild thoughts. He couldn't seem to keep his mind clear and steady any more.
What did it mean that they'd turned back to their old color? Would his skin change as well? Would the searing hate in his heart vanish too? Hate at his brother who'd caused it all?
Alrik roared at the painting. Screamed all of his venomous rage at Telal until his voice dried and shriveled to a croak. He was caught in another place, a place where emotion controlled him. All that he heard was his own harsh breathing and the sound of metal cutting and cutting.
When his voice stopped and the echoing shout faded, it still wasn't enough. His arms shook, his breathing sounded harsh. Alrik grabbed a sword from the table and slashed at the painting in hard sweeping cuts. The sounds of tearing paper, the ripping of cloth and snapping of the wooden frame cooled the hatred inside of him, if only a little.
His brother's body turned into slashes on the canvas like bears had ravaged it with their claws. The canvas folded in half, then dropped to the floor in tatters.
“Sir?” a hesitant voice said.
Alrik stared at the shredded painting, at the place where his brother used to be. His heart squeezed tight and his eyes watered. What had he done? Getting down on his knees, his hands trembled as he lifted the shredded remains of his brother's face.
“Sir?”
Alrik turned to the voice, and knew his eyes were glowing with simmering hatred. The steward took several steps back, his hand flying to his heart. As if that would save him.
The steward swallowed hard. The stench of his fear clung to air. “She, Lady Arianna, says she is ill and cannot receive you right now.”
A cold deadening feeling settled over him, starting in his heart and spread all the way to his fingers and toes. Alrik stood and stared down at the pieces of the canvas. Something snapped inside him.
He stormed into his study. The vial his mother had given him still sat on his desk. He grabbed it, uncorked it, and drank the entire contents. In a gradual rush his anger lessened, the trembling in his arms stopped, and his mind calmed. Taking a deep breath, he threw the empty vial into the fire and watched it blacken then shatter under the flames.
In the next second, he stalked out the door and up the stairs to Arianna's room. Sick or not, she wouldn't ignore him. She was his now. And she'd learn her place if he had to make her.
He didn't bother knocking but turned the handle and found it locked. Though his anger had lessened, it still simmered inside him. His mother's concoction allowed him to have better control of it. Bracing himself, he slammed his foot forward and kicked in the door. It burst open, the wood cracking along the frame. A feminine cry sounded from inside.
Alrik entered, finding Arianna sitting at her desk writing in a small notebook. Her eyes were wide and scared, and when she saw him, she immediately stood and backed up.
Good, he thought. You should be scared.
Arianna couldn't stop her heart from trying to beat out of her chest. Alrik looked more fearsome than ever. His chest rose and fell in great heaves; his hands were held stiffly at his sides as if ready to strike in a moment's notice, and his eyes... She gasped; his eyes had turned black again. The longer she stared the more she realized they swirled like black snakes coiling amongst themselves in a pit. What had happened to him since she last saw him?
He took a step into the room and kicked the door closed behind him. The realization that she was alone with him with no means of escape aside from her window that led to a forty-foot drop sent apologetic words falling from her.
“King Alrik, what are you doing here? I'm so sorry I couldn't make your request today. I'm-I'm really not feeling well, truly. I hope you understand.”
He didn't say a word but slowly took one step then another and another towards her. She felt like a weak animal being stalked by one much stronger than she was. When he got within a few feet of her, she screamed and darted to the side. His hard footsteps sounded after her.
She reached the bed and tried to climb over it, to get to the other side and to the door. She reached the edge of the other side of the bed, her hand curling around it as she frantically scurried across it, when a strong hand grabbed her ankle and tugged. She fell onto her stomach, sliding back towards him. She cried out again, tears forming in her eyes. He's going to kill me.
Strong hands grabbed her waist and flipped her over. She slapped at him, tears falling uselessly from her eyes, but he only grabbed her wrists and planted them on either side of her head. He leaned down over her, those dark terrifying eyes boring into hers.
“Why did you ignore my summons?” Even his voice sounded deeper, almost garbled.
“I-I told you. I do not feel well. Please let me go,” she said softly.
Those swirling eyes cut to her desk, then back to her. “Yet here you are writing with a little smile on your face.” His eyes traced over her face then down her body. “You seem well enough, Arianna. Did you lie to me?” he asked slowly.
Her mouth open and closed. Then some kind of resolution came over her and she stifled her tears and steadied her breathing. Softly she said, “Yes, I did lie and I'm sorry. I was just busy and didn't want to stop yet. I swear I was planning to come see you once I was finished. I swear. I swear.” She squeezed her eyes shut.
It was the truth. She'd been in the middle of writing in her journal. About him. She hadn't wanted to stop, because she'd been trying to analyze her own feelings towards him. Especially since she last saw him, when they'd shared each other's bodies. She had to stop and try to figure out how to feel about it, and she always did that best by writing.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
She popped her eyes open and almost flinched at his dark eyes. But she kept her gaze locked on him.
“Do not ever lie to me again, Arianna. I don't think I could stand it.” She froze, feeling an odd truth in his words. Had her lie really mattered that much to him? But why? He only wanted her body.
He stood and turned to stare out at the bright sky through her window. Arianna slowly sat up, rubbing her wrists though they didn't actually hurt. Embarrassment crept in that she'd overreacted, but no. She was justified in her reaction. She'd been certain he was going to kill her by the look in his eyes, by the furious energy radiating off him. Anyone would have thought the same.
After a moment, he walked to her desk and sat at it. An all-new fear fired inside her. She ran for the desk but as she reached to grab her precious journal, he cut her a hard look that had her stumbling to a stop.
“This is what you were doing when you ignored me...” He proceeded to flip through the pages of her journal, ignoring the many earlier entries in favor of the newer ones.
Arianna found it difficult to breath. She could only stare in horror as he flipped directly to the page about when she'd first been invited to dinner. He settled down over the journal, his elbows on either side like a dog protecting his bone.