Chapter 34 Rui
Rui
She had lied. She’d said she hadn’t come for him, that she didn’t care. But Zizi had called her bluff in the simplest of ways.
One moment they were yelling at each other, the next his lips were crashing into hers. Her defenses fell apart the moment
he pulled her into his arms. She felt herself yielding, her arms twining around his neck, fingers in his hair, lips slanting
to deepen the kiss. They wandered across the room as one, hands moving in unison, across fabric, then bare warm skin, leaving
a trail of cloak and corset, ribbons and scattered jewels, behind them. He scooped her up in his arms, then lowered her carefully
to the floor, the rug soft against her back.
“Rui,” Zizi whispered, breath hot against her neck.
She gasped, a tingle skating across her skin.
“Rui,” he whispered again, smirking this time, a wicked glint in his eyes.
She tried to glare, but he said her name again and again as if it was a prayer and she was the goddess on his altar, and she
shivered with pleasure. She could feel his teeth undoing the frilly choker around her neck, pausing to graze her bare skin.
He was teasing her, and she was mad at him.
She flipped him onto the rug, pinning him down with her own weight. Pushing herself to a sitting position, she looked down
at him in wonder, at the strange new silvery-white streaks in his hair, the array of shimmering necklaces that hung over his
chest, the two butterflies tattooed just above his heart peeking from under his half-buttoned shirt.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw something flashing at his wrist. But when she looked again, it was gone and his wrist
was bare. Her fingers trailed to the old scar she’d given him when she stabbed him in the chest. Her mark.
He was still him. Yet she sensed that he also wasn’t.
The dark spot in his left eye grew and subsided like a menacing black hole in an ocean of blue.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
In reply, Zizi pulled her close, then he sealed her mouth with his as if he was making an unspoken promise, and she thought
she could taste his hopes and dreams—
—his fears.
He clung to her as though he was drowning and she was his lifeline. There was something else in his touch that hadn’t been
there before. Something deeper than desire, a kind of raw desperation that came with an understanding of the impermanence
of life and the transience of love. Their first kiss in the infirmary was them coming together, the missing pieces of one
soul filled by the other.
Now he was kissing her as though he was breaking apart.
Nothing had changed between them, yet everything had. And when they finally pulled away, she thought she saw an indescribable
sadness in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asked again. It was an absurd question. Considering they were two mortals stuck in the underworld—everything was wrong.
“Nothing.”
He was lying.
He grinned lopsidedly. “I’m—sorry—for—yelling—at—you,” he said, punctuating each word with a quick kiss on her forehead.
“As you should be. You know, we need to stop kissing in weird places.”
Zizi laughed. “I take it you’re not mad at me anymore.”
“I wish I could stay mad at you,” she sighed. But when he tried to pull her into his arms again, she shook her head. “Don’t
avoid my questions. You’re worried about something, aren’t you? If it’s about how we’re getting out of here, I have it covered.
We need to get to Naihe Bridge before sunrise or whatever the equivalent is in this realm. Use your fake Kingly authority
to get us there, and the Lady of the Pavilion will help us cross back to the mortal realm.”
Zizi’s expression clouded. He brushed her hair gently, tucking a loose lock behind her ear. “I’m not going with you.”
“Why not? The Nothing is still eating the Courts, which means they made a mistake with you. Ten got the wrong person. You’re
not the King they need—you don’t belong here.”
He didn’t argue, but Rui sensed his disagreement.
“You can’t help the underworld, but our realm needs you. I need you,” she said. “You created that spell, you can find it and destroy it, and we can stop the Hybrids once and for all.”
The pale fire of Zizi’s eyes dimmed, and a bittersweet smile ghosted his lips. “The Nothing hasn’t withdrawn, but it’s not
for the reason you think.”
“Then tell me the reason. Don’t keep me in the dark.”
Zizi jerked his head to the side suddenly, as if he’d heard someone shout for his attention. “I have to go.”
“Why?” Rui didn’t want to be separated from him so soon.
“The other Kings are calling for me. If I don’t show up, they might suspect something.” He squeezed her hand gently. “Do you
trust me?”
She nodded.
“I’ll get you to the bridge, and I’ll find the spell. But I can only explain everything later. Stay here. You’ll be safe.
Don’t open the door, not even for Nikai. I’ll be—” He faltered, face tight with worry. “Your yangqi is fading.”
It was happening too soon; she hadn’t accomplished what she needed to yet. “If it’s fading, does that mean I’m going to—”
Zizi pressed a finger to her lips, shaking his head. “Not on my watch.” He cradled her cheek, touched his forehead to hers.
“Wait for me to return. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Throwing his cloak over his shoulders, he glanced back at her briefly, a peculiar expression on his face, as if he was reminded
of something.
The door closed, and he was gone.