The Mirror in the Mountain (The Mirrored Trilogy #2)

23. Eva

Chapter 23

Eva

T he morning mist clung to the kitchen window, blanketing the courtyard in a hazy fog that felt as if I was still in a dream. Like I was alone in the world, or perhaps at its very beginning. The soft, diffused light of sunrise cast a gentle glow on the sprawling plum trees—their dark leaves sparkling with dew as the world gently woke.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat here until the air around me changed, suddenly charged like it did whenever Bash was near. My heart pounded as I turned around to see him leaning against the doorway, his jaw flexing as my attempt at a smile fell flat.

Even this early he looked effortlessly handsome—the only hint of the apprehension I could feel down our bond visible in the way he was nervously rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing his strong, freckled forearms.

“I didn’t think you were awake,” I muttered, turning back to my untouched breakfast. It had long since gone cold.

“Something important was missing from our bed,” Bash said simply. There was a sad sort of smile on his face as I raised my eyes to his, trying to ignore the roiling in my gut.

His stare tore right through me, exactly the way I knew it would—exactly the way I wished it wouldn’t. From the very beginning, he had always seen every part of me.

Quickly, I tamped down on our bond, even though I had been doing so since last night. But Bash could always read me like a book, even before our bond fell in place. His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, as if squinting at the words written behind my gaze.

I should’ve known he would find me already, even though it was only just dawn. I had barely made it out of our bed with the way his shadows had wrapped around me after slipping away from the warmth of his arms, like they hadn’t been ready for me to leave just yet. Perhaps they had taken it upon themselves to alert their master of how I had woken straining against invisible chains, unable to scream.

Bash’s hand had curled against the warm sheets I had just vacated as I silently snuck out of our room, unable to quiet the buzzing in my head after the way I had ended our conversation last night. I hadn’t wanted to see anyone at the breakfast table and have them notice the war going on inside me—needing to find some control before I had it in me to look them in the eye.

Because the guilt felt like it might shatter me. I couldn’t get over the nauseating thought that I could end this all right now. That I was allowing the people of this realm to suffer, that soon everyone I loved would be forced to fight a war when one sacrifice would solve everything. I almost laughed at being faced with the ultimate utilitarian quandary that had come up during my mother’s many strategy lessons—what was one life worth when surrendering it would save so, so many?

But to actually go through with it felt like the worst sort of betrayal, both to myself and those who cared for me. It was one thing to forfeit my life in the heat of battle, to actively give myself up for my friends, my family—to die in response to an immediate threat. It was another thing entirely to consider killing myself in a void, the act passively heartless. And especially not when there were still other options. When there was still another way, one that wouldn’t require me to give up everything in order to win.

It had been a close thing, yesterday, and my decision not to tell Bash—not the tell them all—was already wavering. Yet I knew that if Bash learned what it would cost to stop Aviel, he would talk me out of a choice that was already too difficult to make. Impossibly so when I wanted to cling to my life, cling to him, cling to all of it.

A dozen questions flickered in Bash’s expression, but he didn’t voice any of them. Instead, he said, “Let’s go on a walk.”

“I’m…” I glanced down at my untouched plate of food. “Eating.”

That muscle in his jaw flexed again before he said, dryly, “Are you?”

I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it. Bash just arched an eyebrow at me, then turned to walk out the door.

“It’s freezing,” I muttered as I followed him into the misty morning, pulling my cloak around me. I slid my hands into its pockets, if only to hide their shaking.

Bash’s hand slid into my pocket a second later, his fingers curling around mine. His thumb circled absently against the scar on my palm as he traced each petal.

I glanced at my anima to find his gaze already on me. A brisk wind ruffled through his auburn hair—tousled, like he had been tugging at it—those two-toned eyes swirling in concern. He hadn’t put on a cloak, seemingly indifferent to the chill.

We came to a stop beneath one of the plum trees, its blood-red leaves vivid against the fog. Bash’s hand caught my chin, calluses grazing against my skin as he gently turned my face back to his. His eyes were soft but expectant. I fought the urge to close mine, as if that could stop him from seeing everything.

Why had I ever thought I could keep this from him?

“Eva,” he said gruffly, my name cadenced like a demand.

My traitorous lips wobbled, but I pressed them together in a thin line. Bash’s eyes narrowed when I didn’t respond, a storm building around his pupils. I wondered if he could feel my unrest over the bond or if it was just written across my face. Because I knew what I should do.

And I had never been more terrified.

Bash’s hand moved to brush a strand of hair blowing across my face behind my ear, his fingers trailing down my cheek. My chest tightened as I remembered the way he had done so in that lake, long before we had acknowledged what we were to each other. He was studying me so intently, I was suddenly grateful he could only feel my emotions, not read my thoughts. That he couldn’t uncover exactly what I was trying to hide.

“Sometimes I worry that you don’t know that you don’t have to do any of this alone,” Bash murmured. “That there’s no burden I wouldn’t take on with you.”

Guilt flared within me. My mouth opened, but I found myself unable to say the words to deflect his concern. Not when they would’ve been a lie.

His features turned stark, his eyes flickering with something like hurt. “Talk to me. Please.”

It was the plea that almost broke me. “About what, exactly?”

Bash let out a low, humorless laugh. “You may have been raised in the mortal realm, but you’re pure fae. Would it kill you to just give me an honest answer?”

I took a half-step backward, attempting to put some distance between us. Bash pulled me right back, one arm looping around my waist. His other hand caught my face, shadows swirling in his eyes, the touch grounding me despite myself. I closed mine, unable to look at him as I tried to find the right lie.

“What is it?” His whole body was thrumming with tension now, shadows licking up his wrists. “What’s wrong?”

There was something crumbling in me. The urge to let him in warring with the knowledge that if I did, there would be no way I could go through with it.

“It’s nothing,” I hedged, the lie twisting in my chest. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters because you’re shaking, Eva,” Bash said, panic creeping into his voice. “It matters because something is upsetting you, no matter what it is.” His grip tightened protectively. “It matters because you’re mine.”

My heart broke a little, as I desperately tried to hold on to my resolve.

“Hellion, you should know by now that I want your good and your bad,” Bash murmured. “Your nothings, your anythings, and absolutely everything in between.”

“It’s just…” My voice trembled. “I’m having a more difficult time than I thought with the idea of what we have to do next. What I need to do. And it’s hard not to…be back there, with him, when I let my thoughts wander. Especially now that we’re about to seek him out.”

I hated lying to him, even if it was only a half-truth. The unwanted shadow of Aviel’s presence—the feeling of his hands on me, the fear those pale blue eyes instilled—still haunted me like a wraith I couldn’t exorcise. But I knew the guilt Bash harbored over what he hadn’t been able to stop, just as I knew I had succeeded in derailing his too-pointed questions by using it against him. I winced at the mix of rage and devastation mingling on his face, his remorse streaming across our bond with renewed force.

Taking a measured breath, I held it before exhaling to the same, slow four-count, trying to slow my racing heart. “I appreciate you talking it out with me though.”

“And you’re sure that’s all?” Bash swept his hair back with a hand. “Is there anything I can?—”

“Bash,” I said imploringly.

“ Eva ,” he shot right back, clearly unwilling to let this go. “Just tell me what you need…please.”

My unfocused gaze zeroed in on his face. “You.”

I pushed him back against the tree trunk, its leaves shuddering at the impact. The morning light disappeared as I wrapped us in a cocoon of my magic that mingled with the mist—a flurry of blood-red leaves decorating the dark as they fell all around us. His breath hitched as I lowered myself onto my knees, my hands already fumbling with the laces of his pants. My hand wrapped around his hardening cock, Bash’s groan rumbling through me as I took him into my mouth.

Maybe it was cowardice to want this distraction rather than face my supposed fate head on. But I didn’t want to think about what could very well be my death. And if I did have to die to stop Aviel, then I didn’t want to waste another second with my anima . I refused to live another minute without his hands on me, his body entwined so deeply with mine that we could never be taken from each other ever again.

I wanted to lose myself in him—in the taste of him down my throat, in the feel of him filling me so completely I couldn’t focus on anything else. Needed the respite from the thoughts that had chased me from his arms once already this morning.

“Eva…” Bash’s moan as I sucked him deeper traveled through me. “Gods, you’re perfect.”

Bash pulled me to my feet. I let out a soft whine at the interruption before his mouth found mine. His fingers flew to unbutton my pants, and I blocked it all out—so completely that I could almost pretend to fool myself along with my anima as I let myself feel nothing but pleasure and lust and that endless need for him.

Winding my arms around his neck, he lifted me against the tree trunk, my bare thighs wrapping around his waist. And when our bodies joined, all I could think about, all I knew, was him. How right he felt inside me, how much I needed him—how forever wouldn’t be long enough.

I kissed him hungrily, moans building in the back of my throat as he thrust into me faster, the roll of my hips urging him on.

“Harder,” I begged. “I need you.”

Because someday not too far in the future, I could very well be gone and wouldn’t ever be able to get enough of him.

Bash’s gaze never left my face, even as he found his own pleasure amid my own shuddering climax, as if he knew there was something ephemeral between us, something frighteningly perilous.

Something that could be taken away.

When we broke apart, still wrapped in our own dusky world, we were both panting.

A dark smile graced Bash’s mouth. “You know, it’s a bit of an inconvenience having a world to save when I just want to spend the rest of my life making you moan.”

“Promises, promises,” I said under my breath as I pulled on my pants, brushing bits of bark from the back of my cloak.

But there was worry in the crease of his brow that belied his words, coalescing into something tangible across our bond. A hint of fear still swirling in those ever-changing eyes. The feeling like he knew more than he was letting on…but was willing to give me the space I needed until I was ready.

I almost laughed as a fit of hysteria hit me. Because of course he noticed my disquiet, even as he tried to explain it away. He had always seen right through me.

As that familiar panic leaked back in, I told myself to breathe—that I didn’t need to do anything now. That it would all seem less petrifying if I could only manage one deep inhale.

But I couldn’t do anything except stare into my darkness as it dissipated into the day, and wish my fears were as easy to eradicate.