Empire’s Curse (Drakkon #1)

Chapter 43

Daiyu pulled back to tell him how much she loved him, but his body grew slack against her and she toppled to the floor in the next second. She blinked up at the sky, Muyang’s heavy body pinning her in place. Gasps and startled cries filled the air as the guards rushed forward.

“M-Muyang?” She turned her face to find his head lolled against her shoulder, his eyes shut and his skin pallid. It must have been too much of a shock for his body, she thought, or maybe … maybe she didn’t make it in time? What if his souls rejected each other? What if?—

A blind panic overtook her senses, and she inhaled sharply. She couldn’t lose him. Not after everything they had been through. Not after being so close to saving him.

“Assist His Majesty!” Bohai shouted, dropping down on his knees in front of them.

The guards lifted him up and Daiyu was finally able to push herself into a sitting position. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Muyang’s lifeless body. Tears filled her eyes. He couldn’t be, could he?

“Muyang?” she called again. “No?—”

“He’ll be fine.” Bohai held his hand out to her, his light-brown eyes softening. “You saved him, lady Daiyu.”

“But how do you know?” She struggled up to her feet and reached out to Muyang, but her legs were leaden and everything began spinning. She stumbled forward and Bohai grasped her forearm lightly to steady her.

“You look exhausted. How about you rest?”

“Where are they taking him?” Daiyu didn’t want to part from Muyang, not with all the uncertainties she felt at that moment. And definitely not after going through so much to see him. She didn’t care that every bone and fiber in her body was resisting, that she also wanted to collapse to the floor and pass out from fatigue.

“To his bedchambers.” Bohai nodded to the men and they continued carrying him away. He followed them and waved her forward. “Come now, you should stay with him too. We have a lot to talk about.”

Daiyu trailed after them, too tired to complain or think too hard about anything. It wasn’t until they took Muyang to his bed, laid him down, and she noticed his chest rising and falling, that she allowed herself to fall on the velvet couch and sag against the embroidered cushions. All the energy seemed to leave her in that instant, and she closed her heavy eyes. She hadn’t realized how fatigued she had become from traveling up the mountain, traversing the rocky terrain, finding Feiyu and looking through his memories all night, and finally flying to the palace—until this moment. When everything was seemingly okay.

“So what happened?” Bohai eased himself onto the couch across from hers. He glanced over at Muyang’s slumbering body and then back at her. “You said that his souls combined?”

“Yes.” She explained everything to him, from Feiyu helping her at the palace, to how she knew where to find him, and everything in between. By the time she finished the story, Bohai was staring at her like he had never seen her before. Like he couldn’t believe his ears.

He reclined in his seat, his eyebrows furrowed together. “I always had my suspicions that something was off about Muyang ever since he took the throne, but I never … I never thought that was what happened. Feiyu and Muyang were the same person this whole time?”

“Yes,” she murmured. “I’m sure it’s quite shocking to you since you knew him—well, both of them—for so much longer than I did.”

Now that Feiyu and Muyang’s souls were stitched together again, didn’t that mean everything she had told Feiyu—her gripes about Muyang, her desire to flee from him, and so much more—were also privy to Muyang now since they were the same person? Her cheeks warmed at the thought of that and she fiddled with one of the many tears in her dirtied skirts.

“I always found it strange that Feiyu showed up when he did, and that he seemed to know so much about everything. Muyang has never been a trusting person, so when he brought in a masked mage who he seemed to trust so easily, I found it … troubling, to say the least.” A pensive expression crossed Bohai’s face for a moment and his voice lowered. “But Feiyu had a way about him that made everyone comfortable around him. Like we always knew him, and I suppose we did.”

They were both quiet for a moment. Daiyu watched Muyang’s sleeping form with a pang in her chest. How painful must it have been for Feiyu to be around the people he loved and be unable to say anything about who he was? And how confusing for Muyang must it have been to have gaps in his memories for the people he was supposed to love? She couldn’t imagine going through the stress of being the emperor for four years without a solid support system. Without his memories intact. He probably felt like he was going crazy at some moments. At least that’s how she would have felt.

A knock on the door interrupted their silence and Vita poked her head through the doorway the next second. Upon seeing Daiyu, a look of relief passed over her face and she stepped inside tentatively.

“I heard His Majesty collapsed? Is everything well?”

“He’s fine, for now. Just exhausted.” Bohai waved her inside and soon, the entire room filled with the rest of the members of the Peccata, who seemed to have been waiting in the hallway the whole time. After Bohai retold everything Daiyu had just told him, they all crowded his bed and stared down at him like they were seeing him in a new light—and they sort of were.

They all began chattering at once.

“So Feiyu was Muyang this whole time?” Atreus asked, eyebrows raised.

Nikator frowned. “The whole time?”

“And he never told you?” Thera asked Bohai.

“Why would he tell him and not us?” one of them asked at the same time another said, “He should have told us.”

Bohai raised his hands to quiet the group. “Alright, alright. I get that you’re all confused and we can share all our thoughts with him later, but right now, Muyang needs his rest. And, by the looks of it, lady Daiyu needs to rest too. So how about we all take this elsewhere for now? Leave the couple alone.”

Daiyu was more than appreciative when everyone filed out of the room and left them alone. When it was just her and Muyang, she sat on the edge of the bed and rested her hand against his. His fingers were cool to the touch and she brought her lips to his palm. Tears welled up in her eyes, stinging them as she blinked rapidly. She had so much to talk to him about, so much she needed to clarify with him, so much she wanted to discuss. And she was bone-weary. She finally felt every single cut and bruise littering her worn body. Every scrape she got when trying to save him. And she wanted nothing more than to curl up by his side and remain that way. To feel him close, to know that he was going to be fine.

Because what if he wouldn’t be fine? What if his souls would war each other? What if the souls were incompatible after being separated all these years? What if he didn’t love her as much anymore? What if?—

Before her mind could be swamped with the worst-case-scenarios, Daiyu coiled up on the bed beside him, her face inches away from Muyang’s. She placed a gentle hand against his cheek and breathed in the scent of him—of jasmine, of orange blossom, of spices and outdoors. Her eyelids grew heavier, her exhaustion winning over.

Daiyu awoke to the feeling of someone brushing her hair gently. So gently that it almost felt like a soft, summer wind tousling her hair. She didn’t even know what she had been dreaming of, but she was sure it was something to do with summer—with laying in a bed of flowers and breathing in the scent of jasmine.

She slowly opened her eyes to find the blackest of nights staring back at her. It took her a second to realize she was staring into Muyang’s gaze, and she gasped sharply, her body jerking upright.

“Muyang!” She hadn’t even realized she was tucked into his impressively tall frame until that moment. Her face warmed with sudden embarrassment—she shouldn’t have felt so awkward around him, but knowing that he differed from before, that he had both Muyang and Feiyu inside him, made everything with him feel strangely new.

The corner of Muyang’s mouth curved and all thoughts of him being different fled in that moment. He looked just like her Muyang. The same villainous smirk, the same dark, brooding eyes, and the same mischievousness that told her he was otherworldly wicked.

“You were drooling all over my arm,” he said with a hint of teasing in his voice.

Daiyu could feel the heat creeping up her neck and ears. “No, I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“W-Well—” She cleared her throat and smoothed down her hair with shaking hands, only to discover she still had twigs stuck in her hair. More embarrassment filled her as she plucked out the bramble, twigs, and thorns that had gotten stuck there at some point. “Why didn’t you tell me I looked like such a mess?” she grumbled.

“You don’t look messy at all. Only …” His gaze skated over her face, her head, and the rest of her body. She relaxed at the softness in his sharp, midnight-like eyes. “Adorable.”

“Adorable?” She laughed, covering her mouth. “That doesn’t sound like a word that belongs in your vocabulary.”

“It’s a testament of your bravery and determination to save me, from me, and to find me.” He reached forward and tugged out a thin, wiry twig from her hair. He twisted it between his fingers, staring at her the whole time. “What different way can I describe it other than absolutely adorable?”

“For starters, Muyang, adorable doesn’t suit you at all. Not even coming out of your mouth.” Daiyu relaxed against the backboard of the bed and peered down at him with lowered lashes. It was easy to fall into a rhythm of banter with him, and she almost felt na?ve for thinking that things would be different.

The corner of Muyang’s lips rose to a smile that sent shivers down her spine. “You only want filthy things coming out of my mouth, then?”

“I—I never said that.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to.” He propped himself up on one elbow, reached for the back of her neck, and pulled her into a kiss. She didn’t have time to prepare for it, not with their bodies flush against one another, and certainly not with his soft mouth pressing against hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, the familiar warmth pooling in the pit of her stomach and warming her chest. She moved her lips against his, gasping slightly as his tongue flicked into her mouth gently. She splayed her hands against his chest.

Their closeness—their sweet kiss—bridged a gap that had broken within her from anxiety from the idea of never having him again, of never seeing him again, and never touching him again. When he pulled away, she breathed in deeply, her gaze fervent and a deep desire blooming within her. She wanted every piece of him. Forever, and ever.

Muyang dragged a finger over her jaw. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on, Yin Daiyu. You’ve captured my whole heart from the moment I saw you. I’m fortunate to have met you for the first time on two separate occasions. The first when you tried sneaking into the palace and pretended to play coy and secondly when you burst into my bathing chambers and, once again, pretended to play the part of a blushing maiden.”

“I am a blushing maiden.”

“You were a blushing maiden.”

“Nonetheless, I wasn’t acting.”

“Oh, but you were.” Muyang brushed his thumb over her lips slowly, his gaze flicking between her mouth and her eyes. “Because I know you are fierier than any woman I have met, and you are so much more than a timid creature who will let me have my way.”

She inched closer to him and kissed him again, this time deeper and longer than the last. Her heart felt so full in that moment—being so near him, being able to kiss him like this, and being so deeply in love.

It wasn’t until hours later, where they both were laid on the bed, the blanket covering their bare bodies and the night air breezing through the open windows that Daiyu traced the dragon tattoo on his forearm, and then serpent and moon tattoo mirroring his other forearm. She could practically feel the magic thrumming beneath his flesh from both marks. Now combined, he seemed more powerful than before.

“Is it strange to see me like this?” Daiyu murmured, peering into his face. “Feiyu never saw me naked.”

Muyang blinked back in surprise and then chuckled, clearly not expecting such a response. “I don’t think strange is the word I would think of.” He crossed his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. A furrow formed between his brows. “I’m back to how I used to be, I suppose. No more confusion, no more wondering why I can’t remember many things. It is a bit … strange, I suppose, to have memories that occurred concurrently from one body to the other, but it also feels so much more natural to be in this form.”

“Have you thought about what you will do now that you have your souls combined again?”

“I will continue to reign.” He turned his attention back to her. “I know I said that I am a curse upon these lands and that it’s better for me to die than to rule, but now that I’m back, with both my memories intact, I see no reason to wither away and give my throne to another. It’s true that I don’t deserve this empire, and that maybe it would be better for someone else to rule, but I am selfish, Daiyu. I will continue to reign until our children are able to take over where I left. And maybe then, because our children will have your kindness and resilience, we will finally have an emperor worthy of this cursed throne. But for now, I will rule and I will protect those important to me—notably you—and I will carve a path for the both of us in this twisted, dark dynasty.”

Daiyu nodded. Truthfully, she had expected as much. She didn’t think Muyang was the type of person who would give up his throne, his empire, or his reign—not while he was sound in mind. But she hadn’t realized he was thinking of a future for the both of them and their future children. Her chest tightened at the thought of that, and she knew in that moment that she too needed to have strength and cunning in order to survive in this vicious court. Not just for herself, but for her children and their futures.

Because Drakkon Muyang—MuRong Muyang—had many, many enemies.

“We’ll be fine,” she murmured, snuggling back into his arms. He embraced her loosely, and she tucked her chin against his collarbone and pressed a kiss on his jaw. “Whatever happens in the future, know that I will always love you, Muyang, and I will always be on your side. Through thick and thin, through war and peace, through happiness and grief—I will stand by you.”

“Are you declaring your love or your loyalty to me?” There was a teasing quality in his voice that made her roll her eyes.

“Both.”

He kissed the top of her head. For the rest of the night, she rested in his lean arms. The two dynasty tattoos etched into his flesh were a reminder of who he was and what he was capable of, but she never felt so safe as she did in that moment.