Chapter 55 Devora
Devora
“Did you think you could hide from me, love?”
Scarven’s words permeated my dream. I could feel him shrouding me, covering me, embedded in the walls of my mind.
“Did you think you could escape?” A cold, invisible finger traced down my neck. “No one ever escapes me. You are mine, Devora.” He drew out my name, his voice so close now, I could practically feel his breath on me as ghostly fingers clamped over my throat.
The wound on my neck pulsed with white-hot pain. I tried to thrash out of his grip, but the nightmare ensnared me. I was powerless and at his mercy, the way he always wanted.
But then he released me.
The never-ending blackness of my dream gave way to a figure kneeling on the ground. As the shadows pulled it closer, it began to take form. Broad shoulders, thick muscles, unruly dark-blond hair.
Nox.
He was yanked backward by something I couldn’t see, forced to face me with a look of silent torment. I reached for him, my heart pumping louder with each passing second. What was he doing here? What did Scarven—
Nox’s shirt ripped open, and before I could blink, four claw marks dragged down his bare skin, so deep they cut through muscle until flesh dangled from his open chest.
“No!” I shrieked.
Panting, Nox rolled his head along his neck to stare at me, the light in his eyes dimming. He opened his mouth. “Dev—”
With a jagged slash from an invisible blade, his head was severed from his body.
A scream burst from my throat. Pressure rose inside me, anguish flooding my veins without a way out. My arms vibrated with the force of it, my head pounding and chest crumbling and shadows—
“Devora,” a voice whispered, breaking through the storm. “Devora, wake up.” It got clearer with every word, and the darkness began to dissipate. I could dimly feel rough hands holding my shoulders.
“It’s just a dream. You have to stop,” the voice said. I couldn’t tell if it was Scarven’s or Nox’s as my vision bled into reality.
With a whimper, I opened my eyes to find myself sitting upright in a bed, Nox’s navy eyes gleaming back at me. His body hovered a foot from mine, his knees pressed into the mattress on either side of me.
And behind him was a wall of shadows.
My eyes widened as I took it in. Surrounding us was a barrier of thick, billowing shadows, so tightly packed, they weren’t even able to dance and twist the way they always did. Faint shimmers of red flashed back at me, but they were gone before I could blink.
I looked down and saw wooden shards covering my hands and bed. The headboard had been obliterated. My shadows continued to gather, filling in the gaps between Nox and me, almost as if they were guarding us. They were full of a nervous, violent energy I’d never felt before.
“You have to call them back, Devora,” Nox said softly, cupping my cheek. My shadows looped up his arm. “You’re going to bring the whole room down.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to urge them back to me, but the shock from my dream still lingered fresh in my mind. My shadows responded to my panic. They solidified even more, and the chamber gave a sudden tremble.
“I don’t know how,” I gasped out. “They—they aren’t listening.” When I opened my eyes again, Nox inhaled sharply.
“Your eyes.” He stroked the top of my cheek. “They’re black again, like the night of the Noctus Vigil. Remember what Calyra said? Your shadows are tied to your emotions. Tell me what happened. Tell me what you’re feeling.”
I let out a small sob and shook my head, wanting to rid myself of the images. Those claw marks, his head rolling in the darkness, his body hitting the floor as blood coated my shadows.
Magic vibrated within me, and I heard something in the room crack.
“Devora,” he said firmly. “Look at me.” His hand on my neck forced me to meet his gaze.
A tear rolled down my cheek. “It was Scarven,” I whispered. “He was there. He said I would never escape him. And then he—you—” My words turned into a shudder, and my shadows lashed out, wrapping around my waist like they could shield me.
“It wasn’t real,” Nox said. “Whatever you saw, whatever he said, it wasn’t real. He can’t get to you.”
I sniffed and held back another sob. “It wasn’t me. It—it was you. He killed you.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed, then slowly put his forehead to mine. “He will never take me from you, Devora, darling. I’m not leaving you.”
I’m not leaving you.
I knew he couldn’t promise it. I knew we had no way of controlling what happened next. But his words still soothed something inside me, still erased the pockets of doubt and fear enough for my shadows to slowly, slowly, slowly make their way back to me.
They swirled through the air as they dispersed, like clouds moving to reveal the sky.
The room came into focus, and I saw the damage I’d caused.
Portraits had fallen from the walls, and glass was scattered across the floor.
Both bedside tables and the armoire in the far-right corner had been blown to pieces.
The wooden mantel above the fireplace was broken on one side and dangling by a few splinters.
Nox started to move away, but I grabbed his arm. I couldn’t stand to watch him walk away. Not after that.
Never again.
“Pomegranates,” I whispered.
The thread between us tightened. He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow, the look on his face nothing short of pained. His arm shook as I brought his hand back to my cheek, those strong fingers and rough calluses scraping against me.
He still barely touched me. I could feel how much he wanted to, though. I could sense his magic begging to be released, could see how much force it took to control himself. He was always controlling himself.
I wondered what it must be like to have all that power beneath his skin. Coiled and eager to strike, but held back by a man who spent his entire life learning to keep it in check.
Scarven had touched me plenty of times. He didn’t care about holding back. He didn’t care about making others feel safe. Every grasp was a reminder of what he could take.
But Nox?
His touch was one of restraint. Of quiet, unending power. And I ached to be cherished by hands that could bring down mountains.
“Please,” I said, voice raspy as I dragged my gaze from his lips to his eyes. “Don’t go, Nox.”
His gaze flared silver. “After all you’ve been through, after what he did to you, I just—” He swallowed again, then watched his own thumb graze the top of my cheek. His body leaned closer, heat washing over my neck, even as he said, “You need time, Devora. I should let you heal. You need—”
“Don’t tell me what I need.” The words left me in a rush.
The desire to be near him made my chest tighten.
“You act like I’m breakable, like one touch is going to shatter me.
And maybe it will. Maybe that’s what I want.
” I put my palm on his chest, and his heart pounded erratically beneath my fingertips.
His eyes burned into mine, navy and silver and wild and wrecked. A growl crawled up his throat and vibrated through my arm. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, darling.”
He was so close now, his nose grazed mine. When I spoke again, my lips barely brushed his with each word.
“Shatter me, Nox. Break me to pieces. You’re the only one who can put me back together again.”
With a final breath, his control snapped. His lips crashed into mine like lightning piercing the sky.
Finally.
There was no hesitation. No slowly stepping a toe into the water.
This kiss was a storm breaking open. His hand found the nape of my neck, and he threaded his fingers through my hair with a tug.
My back hit the broken headboard as his other hand gripped my waist, pulling me toward him.
His lips were warm and demanding and fit perfectly to mine.
Fates, he felt like everything we’d been holding back for months. Every angry word, every searing glare, every passing touch. My shadows writhed until they broke free and wound around our bodies, rushing along our skin in waves.
Fingers dug into skin, fabric, hair. Fire and desperation crawled at both of us, the chaos of the last few weeks fleeing our minds and leaving us weightless. My heart raced with a different kind of urgency—not one born of fear or panic, but of life.
That was him. He made me feel alive. He made me feel reckless and open and free. But mostly, he made me feel safe. Even as his power trembled beneath his skin and his grip tightened at the back of my neck, all I could think was that I wanted to be his. I wanted to be consumed by him.
When he lowered his lips to the uninjured side of my neck and tenderly kissed every inch of skin, I let the world fall away. Let the ache in my chest from all my pain, my sorrow, my fears, burst into something new.
It didn’t feel like breaking. It didn’t feel like falling.
It felt like surrender.
And maybe, finally…I was home.