CONTENT WARNING: Note, this chapter is rated mature due to emotional abuse.

Having been one of the most powerful beings in the realm, I only experienced fear twice: once when my power was stripped from me, and now, when my mate lost consciousness. My heart thrummed loudly in my ears. Time moved at an unbearably slow pace. A cloud of miasma quickly filled the space, every crack and crevice oozing with the dense scent of nightshade and terror.

There wasn’t enough time to purify Zixin without the fox demons getting caught in the crossfire. We needed to come up with another plan.

The young prince holds wrath deep in his heart, Sosuke, a calming voice said in my mind. A pair of violet eyes flashed in my mind and I realized I was hearing Azrael, the archangel of patience and Sathanas’ counterpart. You won’t be able to expel one of the Fallen Seven easily. You have to persuade him to let go of his anger.

When you try to tame the beast, it makes it angrier. I should know, I replied.

Wrath is a powerful emotion and one Zixin had to experience at such a young age. He is only twenty-four years of age and is still very unprepared for the consequences that come with such feelings. As his mate, you have the power to guide him to what is right and lessen the strength of the curse placed upon you.

He doesn’t want me as his mate.

What he wants is not important right now, Sosuke. If you allow him to have his views of the world corrupted by one of the Seven, he will be tainted forever with no hope of redemption. What do you want? A chance of happiness with your destined soulmate or this endless depression?

As much as I hated to admit, the angel was right. Angels had a righteous way of thinking, one that brought clarity to my ancient mind. What do I have to do? 

You will have to enter his thoughts and search for him. There will be many angry ideas forming in his mind. You will have to dissolve every negative impulse that appears. He should be able to see things clearer and regain consciousness.

That seems simple enough.

You have to do it without being consumed by Sathanas. If your spirit dies in the telepathic plane, you will not be able to reconnect with your body and will be trapped in the in-between space. 

How do I enter his mind? 

I will guide you. Jintui and the water dragon must restrain him. He will try to escape while we are destroying the intangible form of Sathanas. The Inari Defensive Forces will focus on purifying the area when Sathanas is expelled from Zixin’s body.

“Jin, Tui...” I started, but I paused when I thought of the water dragon. What was his name again? “Feng Popo.” Judging by the sound of his stuttering, I’d gotten his name wrong, but this wasn’t the right time to have an argument about his real name. “Hold Zixin down and whatever you do, don’t let go.”

“We’ll purify and cordon off the area to keep anyone from coming near. We don’t want Sathanas to body jump,” Asari, the leader of the Inari Defensive Forces, said.

“She won’t get away,” Hamada Kurayami added. “If it’s one thing Hana and I know, it’s how demons think.”

I nodded and replied, “Thank you.”

“Master, you don’t intend to go to the source of the problem on your own? The seals on your power may have been weakened, but they’re still in place. The consequences could be catastrophic.”

“There is no other alternative,” I replied. And with that, I closed my eyes, concentrating on my breath. My spirit was touched by something warm and that’s when I knew the angel was combining its essence with my own, allowing my soul to expand until I was inside Zixin’s mind. Being inside his mind was the only time I could really see what my mate looked like and what he thought of me.

And just like the angel predicted, Zixin’s thoughts were in shambles. Wisps of memories flew past me at a startling speed like gray clouds—it was going to take some time to comb through each in an effort to recover him. 

The first thought that appeared to me was when he was a young child. His scarlet hair was not quite as bright as when I first met him. There wasn’t even a shred of hatred to his soul. He hadn’t experienced it yet. Gone was the dangerous glare. In its place was a gentle smile as he chased a blue butterfly through the gardens. As much as I wanted to stay and watch him, there wasn’t anything alarming about the memory for me to stay.

“Zixin!” an unfamiliar voice bellowed loudly, echoing all around me. A new memory cloud floated toward me to reveal an older man with the same colored hair as Zixin. It had to be his father. “The garden is not a place for the future Emperor of Wuzhen. Go to the soldiers’ barracks at once and don’t return until you’ve accomplished something new today.”

“But I got a bullseye in archery class today!” young Zixin whined. His eyes became wet with quickly forming tears. My heart lurched at the sight. Even though I couldn’t do anything to shield him from his father’s strict behavior, it didn’t stop my desire to protect him from growing.

“Then you will get a thousand bulls-eyes today! Never settle for average, Zixin. If you fall, you get up. And if you bleed, you wipe away the blood and strike down your opponent with twice the strength. You have to work twice as hard because you’re not a full-blooded Celestial dragon, the people will expect more from you.”

Ah, so that was it. His father was living the expectations of himself through Zixin. All the times he never felt like he was enough, he was transferring all of those feelings onto his son and at such a young age. It wasn’t fair, but it was the life of an aristocrat. It explained why he reacted so strongly to certain things or acted indifferently to other topics.

I watched as Zixin progressed through his training, with his father standing behind him with a watchful, speculative eye. Even when his hands started bleeding from mishandling a few of the arrows, his father never made a noise or signal to allow him to stop. Sweat formed on Zixin’s forehead from overexertion and having used a bow designed for larger framed bodies.

It didn’t matter if it rained, snowed, or thundered, Zixin would continue to shoot arrows and practice his swordsmanship in the Palace courtyard. 

“Fùqīn, I don’t feel well,” Zixin said.

“Nonsense. You are not getting out of your training today. Your consistency is only eighty percent. We must get it to ninety today so we can move along to the next step,” his father responded.

Zixin trudged over to the white line, preparing to fire an arrow, but before he could do so, he collapsed to the ground, unconscious, with labored breathing. I looked to his father, expecting him to call for someone, to do anything to help his sickly son. Instead, he kicked him with his foot.

“Get up, Zixin! Do you think your opponent will care if you are sick? He would use the opportunity to take his sword and run it through you before you had a chance to send a prayer to Meihui.”

When Zixin would not budge, his father sent for some servants to help him to his bedchambers. His coloring was off. It had turned a sickly gray. For someone so small, he’d been pushed past his limits. My hands were clenched at my sides, quivering in frustration. If only I mustered up the courage to protect him when he was young instead of feeling sorry for myself, I probably could have been there for him. Or to at least show his father that this wasn’t the way.

Don’t hold on to your anger, Sosuke. You can’t change the past, but you can change the future. The heart of Zixin’s wrath lies within his connection to his father. Take it and change it into something good, something hopeful, Azrael guided.

I entered the memory of his past and found myself standing over a very ill Zixin. I placed a gentle hand on his forehead, ruffling his hair back out of his face. He seemed to appreciate the coolness of my hand as he leaned into it subconsciously. His lips moved slightly, forcing me to lean forward to hear better. My body immediately stiffened when the words “guardian fox” passed through his lips.

At that moment, I understood I didn’t just want to be his guardian fox. I wanted to be his mate. Being the other half of someone and being accepted for who I was meant more than breaking a curse and regaining my freedom. I wanted to be the one to return smiles to Zixin’s face and to constantly remind him he wasn’t alone and he never would be so long as I was by his side.

“I don’t care, Lingyun. You went too far. For Meihui’s sake, he’s only seven years old. You can’t push him like he’s a member of the Imperial Guard. He’s your son,” a young woman with dark hair chastised Zixin’s father. Based on her disapproving gaze, she had to be Zixin’s mother.

To say she was beautiful would be an understatement. Her black locks were partially pinned up in a golden headpiece, leaving the rest to fall against her back. Centuries of wisdom lurked within her hazel depths. Her gentleness seeped through her firm stance.

“You’re his mother! You should want what’s best for him. Instead, you wish to turn him into a pansy, unable to fend for himself when he comes of age!” Lingyun retorted. “I wish I had someone there to push me when you selected me as your mate. I’m helping him.”

“He needs the love of a father, not harsh discipline. I know what you went through wasn’t easy, but he needs your support now more than ever. If you keep this up, you will lose him.”

I couldn’t understand why I was hearing this now. Anything floating through Zixin’s mind had to be memories of what he saw. So how was he seeing this?

A sniffling sound alerted me immediately, and I discovered it was coming from Zixin. He was turned over on his side and, from a certain angle; it looked like he was sleeping. However, from the position I was standing in, I could see the trail of tears streaming down his cheeks as he did his best to contain his sorrow and frustration.

It was a lot of pressure for a six-year-old, but such was the life of a Crown Prince of Wuzhen, or any royalty for that matter. His mother’s words echoed in my mind, leading me to conclude the reason for his belligerent behavior was because he never got the opportunity to be a kid. From such a young age, he was forced to grow up and to uphold an image stronger than anyone else in the country.

“Why am I seeing this, Azrael?” I asked, knowing the people around me in the memory wouldn’t be able to hear our conversation. “This isn’t a manifestation of anger.”

“Zixin’s wrath stems from his experiences as a child. Take the memory and produce something positive out of it. I will send calming waves into his aura to stabilize him.” His violet eyes glowed as a bright white light surrounded him. Closing his eyes, waves of energy rolled off him, exuding tranquility into Zixin’s mind.

I turned towards the sleeping form of a young Zixin and sent positive thoughts towards the boy. Being compassionate towards others wasn’t something I was entirely familiar with. I didn’t want to make the wrong choice or say the wrong thing, but I also wanted to do whatever I could to make Zixin know he mattered. Where was I to begin?

But then I really started thinking. What did I want to hear when I’d fallen to my lowest point in life? I caressed his cheek and whispered into his ear, “Despite all the challenges that are thrown your way, remember you are loved. You are important. Never forget, little ryū.” Even though I knew he wouldn’t be able to hear me because I was speaking to a memory, I hoped he would hold the words close to his heart.

I didn’t know how much time had passed since the first memory as I was thrown through a loop of locked memories, with little time to adjust to my surroundings. Most of them had a dark tinge to their edges. The more profound a memory was, the darker the lighting.

I couldn’t solve every minor issue that lurked within Zixin’s mind. There was only time to address the biggest issues. If he changed his mind about our bond, perhaps it would offer more time for him to heal from the most hurtful thoughts.

“Master Zixin! You really aren’t supposed to be over here during this time. If the Emperor discovers you are avoiding your history lessons, he will be displeased,” a man clad in armor warned.

“Fùqīn is always unhappy, no matter what I do. I think I could get in trouble just for breathing!” Zixin replied.

“Then let’s not make him angrier. Come along, your tutor must be wondering where you are.”

The image disappeared with a poof, leaving a cloud of smoke in its wake. Although I wanted to explore his mind more thoroughly, there wasn’t enough time.

Finding the other half of one’s soul was a once in a lifetime opportunity. It not only promised completion of one’s soul and countless lifetimes of happiness, but it also provided a connection greater than a bond between mother and child.

It was through this connection that I could experience Zixin’s sensations, thoughts, emotions. When he made it clear he would not accept me as his mate, the wall came down, as I’m sure I did with my own. Allowing someone to enter my mind provoked vulnerability, something I didn’t think I was capable of producing. However, being in Zixin’s mind created a flurry of sensations I’d never experienced before.

When this was all over, would he recall my presence in his mind? Would he welcome it or go about his day as if we’d never met?

Before I could entertain that question, I was forcibly pulled into another memory. Standing in the middle was a teenage Zixin, his red hair longer than before but carefully pinned up with a hairpiece fit for a prince.

The surroundings were hazy, something that was common when a memory was old or shameful to the host. He wore a suit of armor and his hand was a blade speckled with rhubarb-colored blood.

Zixin’s eyes were empty as he stared at the dead body at his feet. Any light he held in his eyes when he was a child was gone, extinguished by the sin of his first kill. I couldn’t feel any emotions radiating off him. It was as if he shut himself off from the rest of the world.

“It’s done, Fùqīn,” he spat out vehemently to the man I couldn’t see. “You got what you wanted. An innocent man is dead.”

“It had to be done, Zixin. He spoke poorly of our family. It’s unfortunate he was also your lover. But perhaps you can view this in a positive light: you don’t have to worry about the Council finding out about your... desires,” his father replied, his voice echoing in Zixin’s mind. It made me realize they spoke through the Emperor bond.

“And what about Mŭqīn?”

“What about her?”

“What will we tell her?”

“Nothing. If she found out about your infatuation with the enemy, much less a man, she would end up sick in the infirmary.”

“I’m gay, Fùqīn. Not diseased.”

Despite being in the Mainlands, I felt the mental slap from Zixin’s father. “I never want to hear that word come out of your mouth again! You will marry whoever we select for you as the laws dictate, regardless of whether you like her. Love has no place in our world, Zixin.”