Chapter 57 #2
He watched as she followed the glowing path that coiled over his chest and collarbone with unhurried curiosity. The ancient markings that shimmered like embers.
“I always wondered what these markings meant,” she said softly. “Do they serve a purpose?”
Rune hummed, holding still, amazed that she so freely touched him. “They appeared when I took hold of the shadows. They react when I am serving my purpose as King of the Netherworld.” He held her gaze, faintly smirking. “And they burn brighter when I am losing control.”
Canting her head, Alora smiled when she noticed how bright they were now.
“I always found it difficult to control myself around you,” Rune admitted, brushing her cheek. “No matter how hard I try to hide it, my glamor can never stay in place for long in your presence.”
Her eyes gleamed with amusement in the firelight. “That explains why you were always vanishing into smoke.”
Rune’s brief smile surfaced for only a breath.
“When I lost you, I nearly destroyed the world,” he confessed quietly, letting his hand fall to her neck.
“In my grief, I turned my back on the Heavens and Divine Law. I tried to siphon the magic I needed to gain the magic to raise the dead… so I could resurrect you again. If my power had not been stunted, I would have destroyed the world.”
Alora’s brow curled with sorrow.
He sighed. “I spread my darkness to spite my father for taking you from me. I swore to damn every soul I could, to taint all he deemed pure. I blamed him and my brothers for your death…” He lowered his gaze. “Denying even in my defeat that I was the only one to blame.”
Her fingers brushed his jaw. “You were never to blame.”
“You died in my arms, Alora. You took one look at me and your heart stopped.”
“Yes…” she whispered. “That night … I ran because I was being hunted.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “By Vorak.”
Alora slipped away from him and wrapped her arms around herself as she stared blankly at the mirror above the vanity.
“I remember everything now, Rune.” Her chest heaved with a breath, her eyes drawing to the glowing crimson tear in the sky. “The time we had together in the cottage was magical, until one day he spoke to me.”
Rune moved closer to her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Vorak haunted me when you were absent. He said my blood was precious and that it called to all demons, even to you. I feared perhaps I was going mad like my mother.” Alora’s eyes lifted to his. “But then I saw through your glamor.”
Rune stared at her, frozen.
She took his hand. “Even then, I was never afraid of you.” Tears glistened in her eyes as she continued. “But he was coming for me and the only way to stop him was to curse myself. To seal away my soul forever so he could never take my magic.”
Rune stopped breathing from the gravity of it.
Alora’s voice shook. “I tried to warn you, but Vorak arrived with the Blood Moon… so I fled.” Her tears spilled and Rune embraced her.
She buried her face in his chest. “I am so sorry I did that to you. To us. But if he had taken me then, if he had used my blood, our bond would have been shattered, Rune. He would have killed you. I knew it. I could feel your death.”
There was so much certainty in her words, he had no recourse to argue. His power was nothing compared to Vorak. A cold chill sank in his body, but Rune ignored the feeling.
“I did the only thing I could,” Alora said, looking up at him sadly. “I cursed myself to fall into a deep sleep like death. It was the only way to seal my power away, breaking my connection to Vorak. So you wouldn’t burn for loving me.”
The truth hollowed him out. All those years of loathing. He had carried her death like a penance, believing her loss was his sin to bear.
“All this time…” He sighed and drew her close, bowed his head to hers. “I believed you chose death rather than suffer being bound to a demon. When in truth, you chose it to save me. My gorgeous wife… defying a Primordial with ease.”
“I would do it again.”
He gave an incredulous scoff at the resolve in her tone. “I always knew you were dangerous.”
She laughed faintly.
Rune’s thumb brushed her cheek. “I thought I would never see you again,” he murmured.
“Until I heard you sing once more, leaving me to wonder of this miracle. Then you walked into my cave, begging for my aid and I resolved to do anything to keep you.” He swallowed.
“I twisted the terms of that bargain. Bound you into a marriage contract. Anchored you to me beneath the guise of ritual and law, claiming it would cost your soul. But I never claimed it, Alora.” His hand trembled where it cupped her face.
“For even then, I could only wait … and hope for you to choose me.”
Alora’s breath faltered, softening her eyes as she pressed closer. “So many secrets,” she teased faintly. “What more could you be hiding?”
She meant it as a jest, but Rune had more to admit.
He drew back and turned over his right hand, exposing the god’s mark on his wrist. “From the beginning, I have lied to you about nearly everything. About my life, my name, and what I am.”
After a shallow breath, he released the last of his glamor and the symbol faded, its black lines dissolving into nothing.
There was no mask left to wear.
Only truth.
“I am not a trueborn god…” Rune confessed. “And only the gods are given a fated bride.”
The firelight danced over her startled face as a new understanding settled.
Rune’s hands shook. “I have done so much evil, but perhaps the worst of them was changing your fate… Caelum was meant for you.”
Her eyes widened, misting with tears.
He shook his head, his stomach clenching. “Yet I was determined to have you… even if you despised me.”
“I do…” Alora whispered and he stilled. “I despise you for you have made me love you. And now you hold the power to break me because of it.”
Rune exhaled a faint breath, taken aback by her ardent response.
She meant it.
“I didn’t know it was love, not at first,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “I thought it was madness. Obsession. Some cruel spell you cast on my heart. And even when I hated you—especially then—you haunted even my dreams.”
Placing her hands together, a pomegranate appeared in her palms.
His chest tightened.
“I love you, Rune,” her voice trembled. “Not due to fate or bonds or prophecy. I love you because I have chosen who I want to spend eternity with. Even if the world ends tomorrow.”
He had seen devastation. He had survived disfigurement, defeat, and centuries of carnage.
But nothing had prepared him for this.
“And what of you?” Alora asked in a softer voice. “Could you love me… knowing what I am?”
Rune released a low breath and stepped closer.
“When I was a Seraph,” he murmured. “I would often fly into the cosmos to watch the River of Souls make their journey through the Seven Gates. That was the first time I saw you.” His fingers faintly brushed the tendrils of her hair.
“You were but a flicker of light. So bright I thought it a star. I followed it as I watched, knowing it wasn’t permitted.
Yet I was so taken by your light, I longed for it. ”
Tears welled in her eyes, holding his.
“You were my first sin,” Rune said, a quiet, aching sigh escaping him. “My desire to steal something so pure, if only for the chance to hold it in my hands.”
And he had carried that truth longer than his own fall.
Alora stilled as he lowered to his knees, cupping her hands in his. With a gentle press of his claws, the pomegranate split open and the juice spilled down her fingers as he took a bite.
“You ask me if I could love you.” He stroked her cheek, bringing her lips to his. “Ra’ayati, before everything that ever was, I already did.”