To Bewitch a Devil

Zavian caught that hand. “What are you doing?”

“You won’t tell me what’s wrong, so you’d at least let me have a look at you,” Jasmine said.

Zavian lowered her hands away. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but I am your wife, so I also want to.”

Zavian closed the book in front of him. When he attempted to step around Jasmine and head for the door, she stood in front of him, blocking his way.

“Why won’t you even speak to me?!” She practically screamed at him. “I ask, I knock, I offer, I have tried everything, yet you shut me out. Even the General is of more importance to you than I am!”

Zavian’s eyes widened at her uncharacteristic outburst. “Jasmine, I am dealing with something at the moment.”

“Exactly!” she said. “Exactly, Zavian. That is why I should know. Because,” she poked a finger into his chest. “I am your wife!”

.....

Zavian pulled away the finger. “I am sorry, Jasmine.”

Hot tears filled her eyes. “When you first saw me, from the first day I came into this castle, what were your thoughts?”

Zavian blinked, not knowing what turn of direction the conversation was going now.

“Did you think I was a pretty demon who got along with everyone? Beautiful for other demons to stare at? Like a living sculpture? Did you think of me as a carpet that you can walk on? Someone so disgustingly sweet and kind and understanding that can accept anything you do? Someone who will allow you to get away with anything?”

“Jasmine…”

“Well, I am tired of how you cast me aside as if I am nothing but dirty laundry”, a tear slipped from her eye. So much for patience__ a voice in her head reprimanded her.

Zavian ran a finger through his hair. “I am sorry you feel that way.”

A hollow chuckle rang from Jasmine. “Sorry I feel this way? Is that all you will say? I am the one being emotional about how you made me feel?”

Zavian hands reached out to her, and she waited for him to pull her into his arms and apologize properly. But his hands hung in the air between them, barely even touching her clothes. He lowered them and said nothing.

“You can’t even touch me,” she said. “The other night, you made me feel so unwanted when you refused me, and I even had to offer,” she wiped a tear off her face. “I am dirty laundry to you, after all.”

“Jasmine…”, but Jasmine didn’t wait for his next words before she was out the doors.

….

It had been two days since the ritual now.

Neera lay as still as the night she was placed on the bed, but the effect of the ritual must have stopped the decaying of her body. She didn’t stink the place, her skin didn’t wither away, and not a single fly had come to perch on her body.

She looked like she was in a deep slumber.

Zavian stared down at the body, wondering if he should have the witches come in again. But he couldn’t, especially since Anna was yet to recuperate from the ritual itself. So even though the full moon had come and gone, he still waited, still hoped.

He took his seat in the usual chair by her bedside and stared at her face. It was still pale, and her lips were still darkened.

“Neera”, he called to her. And just like the hundreds of times he had done so for the past days, she was unmoving.

“I wanted to have Penelope come over, but maybe I was being desperate.” he found peace talking to her this way, even if she wasn’t listening. “Maybe I was hoping the voice of someone you really loved will wake you. But Azriel objected, and even got angry.”

He sighed. “He didn’t tell her about… this. He said it would break her, and he didn’t want that. He wants to be sure I have accepted whatever fate comes my way before he breaks the news to her. He wants to know whether you would live or die.”

“Neera,” he came closer to whisper the words into her ears. “Please, if you can hear me. Please, I need you to live. Life isn’t the same without you. I would trade my life if I even get to spend the next hour with you, so please, come back to me.”

He waited, hoping for a little sign; a flutter of a lid, a movement of a finger, a gasp, anything. But Neera was still.

Dejected, he reclined in the chair. He tilted his head up and closed his eyes, the pain of a reality he didn’t want to accept dawning on him. He had been holding on, hoping, but deep down, he knew the ritual had failed.

So he had to do the very thing he couldn’t even think of doing.

He had to bury her himself.

Azriel had talked sense into him, reminding him he needed to do what was necessary. He would bury her by the tree, the one that reminded him of her, strong and relentless. The pain of the thought seared through him, but he had to give her that honor.

Zavian drew himself up and walked around the room, the memories he shared in that space with Neera playing in his head. He should have taken her seriously. When she said she felt there was something bad going to happen, he should have been more protective of her, tell her not to go alone anywhere, listened to her, and asked more questions.

So many should haves when it was all too late.

He could hear her humming in the walls, housed in there like flowers blooming in spring. He wanted to hear more of her songs, she had always sung while alone, shy, and in her own world.