35. Chapter 35 #3
“Technically, you broke the Curse of Love first,” he murmurs against my forehead, his voice a gentle grumble that buries deep into my broken heart, molding the pieces back together again.
“And because of that, the Great Mother offered me a second chance at life. A life that I intend to live with you, by the way, so long as you’ll have me. ”
“Of course I’ll have you,” I rasp. Augustine grins from ear to ear and sets his hands on my lower back in response.
I reach up to wind my hands into his soft, dark hair, just to confirm that he’s really here.
Not feeling quite satisfied yet, I unbutton his shirt and press my palms against his bare chest.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Shhhhh,” I say, listening for his heartbeat.
His heartbeat pumps greedily against my hands, picking up speed.
He’s alive… he’s here… and he’s mine.
There’s so much that I want to say. So many questions that still need answering. But my thoughts are interrupted by Hades throwing a scene, whinnying and trotting in circles beneath the shade of a willow tree.
Wait a minute. I swear that wasn’t there a moment ago. That canopy of twinkling lights, or that table draped in a pretty lace tablecloth. The table is set with two crystal goblets brimming with wine, along with platters that gleam with silver lids, steam curling around their edges.
“What’s all this?” I ask.
“Dinner,” Augustine says softly into my ear.
I can feel his eyes watching my reaction, drinking me in like my surprise is the real feast. He tugs me toward one of the high-backed chairs and motions for me to have a seat.
“I thought,” he says, glancing over at the steaming platters, “after everything you’ve been through, you deserved a moment that’s just yours.
Plus, I promised you a date. And I never break my promises.
Not so long as my heart is still beating. ”
“A date?” I ask, glancing down at my silver dress.
Were the maids—I mean, the Harvest Queens—in on this too? Is that why they dressed me in this magnificent gown for the occasion?
“Oh! One more thing.” Augustine lifts a hand, snaps his fingers, and the forest shifts instantly.
The pale light of the glowing dawn melts away, replaced by tiny bursts of silver light that bloom against an inky-black sky.
A full moon appears low over the treetops, its silver light spilling over us like candlelight.
“Did you just change the entire sky for me? How much magic do you have?” I ask, breathlessly.
“That was my last ounce of magic,” he admits, slipping into his seat.
“What?”
One by one, more stars begin to bloom over our heads, until the entire sky is brimming with them. I wonder if anyone else in the world has noticed the shift in the sky, or the dramatic change from daylight to darkness, all before lunchtime.
“My mother has allowed me to stay on one condition,” he goes on to explain, his gaze shifting over to the bushes. Something rustles, and the forest goes still. “That I exchange my magic for a non-magic, mortal life,” he finishes.
“You’re… you’re a mortal now?” I spit out. “A mortal without magic?”
His gaze drifts slowly back onto mine, and he studies me carefully. “Yes.”
“And that’s alright with you?” I ask, knowing exactly how it feels to be a mortal without magic in a world such as this.
“I’d turn into a bug if it meant being near you,” he chuckles.
Then he lifts the lid off the first platter, revealing a bacon-stuffed quiche underneath.
My stomach howls in delight. Turns out, being asleep for weeks has left me absolutely famished.
But just as I’m about to scoop some of that delectable treat onto my plate, something rustles in the bushes again.
“What was that?” I ask, arms poised mid-reach.
“What was what?” Augustine asks, leaning over and plopping the piece of quiche onto my plate for me. I drop my arms, suspicion threading my brows.
“I heard something,” I say.
Augustine grins.
Fyra appears first, followed by Void.
My heart thunders in my chest at the sight of them.
“She’s not going to give either of you fish, if that’s what you’re expecting,” Augustine says to them matter-of-factly. “Fish isn’t even on the menu this time.”
Hades stomps his hooves and chomps loudly on his apple behind us, as if showing off that he’s already received a treat. Void and Fyra both look at him in annoyance before casting their gazes onto me.
“He’s right,” I say cheekily, peeking underneath the next lid. “No fish today. Just turkey and quiche. Hope that’s alright.” I proceed to rip off two turkey legs and toss them both at the wolves. The legs land with a thud in a pile of leaves, and the wolves begin attacking them viciously.
“See? This is why they like you,” Augustine says, leaning back in his seat. “The legs are my favorite part, and they know it.”
I peer at what remains of the turkey and frown. “It seems that unfortunately, you’ll have to make do without.”
His lips curve into a satisfied smile. “Oh, I’m sure I can find other legs to nibble on, as long as those legs are willing to have me.” He takes a long, slow glug of his wine and sweeps his gaze over mine.
Flushing with heat, I grab a buttered roll off a serving platter and toss it between my hands, resisting the urge to chuck it at his head. He deserves to be swarmed by a meteor shower of buttered rolls considering how much I’ve been crying over him.
I thought that he was dead.
And now?
Now he’s a mortal without magic, and he’s joking about turkey legs?
At a time like this?
“All jokes aside, we need to talk,” he says, his expression turning grim.
“Talk about what?” I ask.
He exhales deeply. I do too. Truthfully, I wouldn’t mind talking about nonsensical things instead, like his favorite color, or his affinity for poppy-seed muffins, which he always used to steal from the kitchen in our previous lifetime.
A memory which just recently popped up in my mind.
I’d even appreciate a discussion about his diabolical family, if he’s feeling up for it.
And if not… well, perhaps we can talk about his favorite sexual position.
Since he seems so obliged to joke about nibbling on my legs.
Maybe I’ll say something sinful, and it’ll make his cheeks flush red for once. But dear gods, can we not talk about—
“The wraiths. They’re slipping into Skaldrathia,” he says.
I nearly choke on the roll.
“I thought Sylas had that under control?” I sputter, wishing desperately that we could go back to discussing turkey legs.
“I’m sure he’d like to pretend as much,” Augustine replies flatly. “But as it turns out, he requires your magic in order to strengthen the Veil. You are his twinflame. That’s how it works.”
I drop the roll on my plate and run my hands over my face.
Oh gods. What am I going to do?
Something nudges my shoulder. It’s a white furry muzzle seated between a set of ultra-violet eyes.
Fyra. The female wolf slumps against my body and lets out a soft little whine.
I scratch a spot behind her ear, and in response, her tail begins swishing with excitement.
“Hey girl,” I whisper. She whines again, so I wrap my arms around her neck and loosen a hefty sigh from my chest. She feels like a weighted blanket. Like home.
“So that’s it, then?” I murmur against her fur.
“I have to marry the Dragon King or the whole realm will perish? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?
Is that why you wasted your last vestiges of magic on this fancy meal?
” Fyra nuzzles at my neck with her wet snout, as if to remind me that it’s not my fault.
None of this is. But that doesn’t stop me from peering over at Augustine, feeling desperate as I add, “There’s nothing I can do to avoid this? ”
Augustine’s voice splinters. “No.”
My brows cinch together. “No, what?”
“There will be no wedding,” he asserts as Void plops himself onto my other side, opposite of Fyra. The two wolves compete with each other for my attention, until I’m forced to scratch behind both of their ears out of fear they’ll drool all over my quiche.
“But I’m his twinflame,” I say. “You just said so yourself…”
“Fuck the twinflames,” Augustine says, rising from the table. A swath of shadows follows suit, casting his face in darkness. “I’m not going to let you marry him. ”
I press my lips together as an image of the wraiths swarming my friends comes colliding into my heart like a sonic boom.
“I love you,” I say to him, even though I know what I must do.