Chapter 36
Eyes of molten silver, spinning slowly with shadows and starlight, met mine.
Erebus.
We woke in his bed at the castle, no longer at Citadel Evernight, but for a moment, we chose to ignore it.
It was a mutually understood commitment to delaying the inevitable, but I didn’t mind.
A minute longer, draped in velvet and silk as Erebus held me against his chest—that was what I craved.
Even if our time was nearly out, I would burn this into my memory.
I ran my fingertips down the side of his face, admiring his features that were no longer hidden by a helmet.
His hair, no longer black but his usual moon white, curled over his brow and tapered just above his shoulders in a tantalizing sweep.
“Your white hair is back,” I whispered, brushing it from his temples. He shivered at the touch, leaning into my hand. “It suits you.”
“Most would say it makes me look like a ghost. Some bloodless, foul creature not meant to exist under the sun.” He lifted part of my hair from where it rested behind my shoulders, rolling it between his fingertips.
“I’m not sure when the pigment faded from my hair and my skin.
Maybe it happened the moment I stopped believing I might one day walk free. ”
But while his hair had returned to what I knew it to be, his eyes seemed different. They were deeper, somehow, and absolutely radiant.
“And your eyes—”
“Are no longer the only ones with shadows in them,” he finished, releasing my hair before guiding my hand to his lips. “Look at yourself.”
A smooth, glass-like surface appeared in front of me, lifted by tendrils of his power, and I peered at my reflection.
Sure enough, my eyes were now the same as his: silver and churning with shadows and stars.
They would truly make us seem united in power and intent.
If ever I encountered his enemies, they would discern my connection to him right away.
But I didn’t mind.
In fact, I very much wanted to be associated with this haunted man made of shadows and stars.
For so long, I’d sought nothing more than to run from the darkness—to escape Norhavellis and carve out a future for myself somewhere else.
I’d dreamed of how wonderful it would be to live a life of normalcy and safety.
Once, I’d even dreamed of killing this man who lay before me, pressing his mouth to the inside of my wrist.
But a life without hardships would never produce a girl able to fight Corruption.
An ordinary girl wouldn’t be able to traverse the Dream Realm, learn its disquieting secrets, and emerge stronger through it all.
I needed to fight. I needed to face my purpose with my chin held high, even if the future was uncertain. I needed to fight for Elliot, for my mother and father, and for Eden, too.
As soon as I shifted my attention back to Erebus, admiring his mouth and the way his hair fell over the hollows of his cheeks, the mirror retreated to somewhere else in the room.
He held my stare, even as he uncurled my hand and interlaced our fingers, and by his next breath, our hands were covered past the wrist in matching black leather.
They were a stark contrast underneath the delicate sleeves of our night robes.
I flexed my fingers, unused to the sensation of my hands being so thoroughly covered. “I’m assuming these are for protection to ‘remind us we aren’t in reality’?”
“You’re catching on,” he remarked, a brief smile lifting his expression and sending a warm, tingling sensation to my stomach. Then he murmured, almost as an afterthought, “But perhaps that is no longer the worst of fates.”
His chambers were eerily quiet; there were no demons screaming for their release, no Weavers waiting to interrogate us, no stars falling out of the sky.
His castle was, for all it could be, still standing.
It was just us, our spinning shadows, and a faint breeze drifting in from his balcony.
But we couldn’t hide here forever, no matter how good it felt to be alone in the world, together.
“We aren’t in the Beyond, so let’s see if we can escape before the domain finishes shattering,” I said, beginning to sit up. Maker, this man was distracting. “I’m thinking we should try the main entrance—”
Shadows roped around my wrists, catching me off-balance and pulling me into a pile of velvet pillows. Erebus leaned over me, quickly replacing the shadows with his hands, and kissed me.
There was no softness or patience in his kiss.
It was all fire, teeth, and tongue—and the aching sense it might be our last.
“Not yet,” he murmured, covering my body with his. My robe hitched up at the movement, and one of his thighs pressed between mine, pinning me in place. “I say we remain as we are.”
My body responded to his heat, instinctively arching toward his hips as his mouth played possessively against mine.
His attention drifted lower, trailing scorching kisses down my throat.
When I was certain he was perfectly distracted at my neck, I threw the shadows back around him, yanking him out of bed by his shoulders.
“Stop kissing me like it’s our last,” I accused, standing to face him.
His eyes shuttered, betraying raw, desperate emotions clawing for attention. “I’m not.”
I shook my head. “You are. And because of that, we’re getting out of your bedroom and leaving this castle. Immediately. We can come back to this”—I gave him a searing kiss of my own—“later. When we’re free.”
He thrashed, but the shadows held firm.
“Don’t make me drag you downstairs. It’s a long way down.”
He laughed, the sound deliciously rich and mirthful. It made my face burn. The shadows slid from his shoulders, drifting to his feet. “I’d like to see you try.”
Erebus willed the shadows away as if they were as insubstantial as smoke, storming toward the door to his bedchamber.
His robe slipped away as he walked, quickly replaced by his usual armor of liquid night and overlapping scales.
He looked back at me, expectant, as an onyx crown slid into place, threading into his hair.
“What?” he asked, mouth twitching up into a half grin. “I wasn’t about to face our fate in a robe. Unless that’s what you’d prefer.”
I decided I quite liked him like this—smiling, irritatingly beautiful, and alive.
I did my best to mirror him, willing my robe to change into a dark, flowing dress with scales like his and a crown to match.
Adding a slit to the front gave my legs greater range, partially exposing a pair of slim boots, pointed and sharp, which swept up my calves like a second skin.
The only things I didn’t like were the gloves he’d attired us with.
I formed a new pair over the old, their clawlike fingertips reminiscent of the ones he used to wear.
Catching him looking at me, I clicked the taloned fingers together. “I wanted to feel what it was like to be sharp and untouchable. I think I like it.”
Identical claws stretched from his gloves as he reached for me. As soon as our hands made contact, the metal covering our palms shifted into black leather. This was surprisingly pleasant; even with the harsh metal on top, I could feel the shape of his palm and the length of every finger.
“What a pair we make,” he murmured. Shadows spun around us in a slow dance. “Claws, scales, and onyx crowns. A wicked king and queen who can perhaps use their darkness for good.”
The castle vestibule was as I had remembered it, candelabras twinkling from their grooves in the walls and extravagant furniture beckoning from the shadows.
Claw marks still gouged the walls, and most of the tapestries and paintings were hanging loosely in snakelike tendrils, but beauty remained.
The castle was surely a ghost of Erebus’s original creation, but pockets of wonder and artistic intent were apparent.
The iron doors were as I remembered, too; colossal and brimming with hundreds of meticulously carved figures.
We stopped just shy of the castle doors, silent as the weight of what we were about to attempt slid over us.
The Light Bringer had forbidden me from doing what I was about to do, but what power did his warning truly hold?
The “monstrous” Shadow Bringer wasn’t a monster after all—and the demons had already escaped, rendering my initial promise useless.
I’d deal with Mithras and the repercussions of my actions later.
I had no other choice; this was the path forward.
So long as the doors opened.
“Go first,” Erebus directed, taking a step back. “You should have no trouble stepping free of this place.”
“No. You have every right to go first. Or we should go together,” I told him.
Erebus made no motion to move, arms stiff at his sides. “Please. I insist.”
His uncertainty unnerved me. If the curse hadn’t lifted, then what hope did we have? I steeled myself, taking a deep breath. If he couldn’t leave, I’d have to carry on by myself.
There is no other path forward.
“Fine,” I said, quickly grabbing the handles and trying to hide my fear. The metal was cool underneath my palms, and the carvings, though shadows curled over their forms, were eerily still. “But I’m taking you with me the second I make it over the threshold.”
I pulled.
Surprisingly, it was as effortless as pushing aside a curtain—one fluid motion, silent and smooth as the doors slid across the stone. Then, before I could dwell on what happened to Erebus when he temporarily left the boundaries of his castle, I took a quick step over the threshold.
No burning, no melting armor. No skin peeling from my bones.
Nothing.
“Come on,” I beckoned, immediately turning back toward the castle and holding out my hand. Erebus was still partially hidden in the shadows, firmly rooted in place. “I’m not leaving here without you, Erebus.”