29.2 || Kiss of Forgotten Embers
"Wait!" The necromancer stumbled in front of Damian and held out her hands in front of her, squeezing her eyes shut to prepare for the arrow. What was another death? She hadn't exactly recovered from the previous one yet. "He's with me."
The bartender sighed and withdrew his bow. "It's been a while since you last snuck through my back door. It's not like you to be so...." he glanced down at the wood they had used and the shattered barrels down the alley, "violent with your lock-picking methods."
"It was a last resort." Her head tingled as she tried to retain her balance.
"Have you not heard of this other method called knocking?" Itros took the chance to assess Damian from head to toe, raking him up and down from his ivory hair to his water-logged boots.
"What psycho would do that?" Morana flashed him a dazed smile. "I really need to lie low for a few days, if you would let me do that here. I can give you information about Silas in return, but not until everything has blown over."
With a roll of his eyes, Itros stood back and opened the door wider to let them pass. "It better be something good. Get in before you bring the rain with you."
The necromancer reached out to the doorframe for support but Damian secured his arm around her instead to help her inside.
A small sitting room greeted them with two sofas facing each other.
If it weren't for the deafening yells of the tavern that could be heard through the walls, the interior could have been considered cosy.
"Who is this, then?" The horned man hung up his bow on the wall and slotted the arrow back into its holster.
"This... is a friend. One that can be trusted," she assured.
"The last person you brought with you while staying here, who you also said was trustworthy, bled one of my customers dry because she wanted a drink." He crossed his arms over his chest.
"Well, this time I haven't brought a Vampire with me." And she would never bring a Vampire again after what happened between them.
"I won't be any trouble, you have my word," Damian promised.
The sound of glass smashing and a loud cheer following suit reverberated around them, making Itros pinch the bridge of his nose in disbelief.
"The guest room is yours. If there are towels in the bathroom on the right, they're yours to use.
I'll be back later to talk to you about this information.
" His onyx eyes gleamed with a warning before he headed back to work.
Only when she heard him shouting to calm down his patrons did Morana breathe a sigh of relief. "This way." She nudged the Fireborn towards the stairs.
If he hadn't let them stay, their only other option was Larsa. While she was also a dear friend to her, the butcher wasn't fond of having company in her living space.
When they reached the top, Damian poked his head into the bathroom and retrieved three towels. It was slow progress as Morana felt her body growing weaker by the minute, but they soon made it to the second door on the left.
Itros' guest room held only a low dresser and a bed.
Pillows were piled high and an embroidered blanket lay on top, an elegant floral design weaved like magic into the stitches.
A mirror hung beside the door with a hidden compartment at the bottom of its frame — one of her favourite locations to hide her necklace.
Sliding out of his hold, Morana fell face-first into the fresh sheets. "If I fall asleep and don't wake up again for a few days, don't panic. It's just my body healing itself." She could already feel herself starting to drift off into the clutches of her power.
"Shouldn't you dry yourself off before that happens?" Concern laced his voice. "You wouldn't want to get ill at the same time."
"Either I'm the luckiest person alive, or I can't get ill." She rolled over anyway and accepted the towel Damian held out to her.
The Fireborn joined her on the bed, sitting on the end and beginning to dry his hair. "So, you heal while you're asleep?"
Pushing herself to sit up, she shook her head. "No. Well, not really. When I die, my body forces itself into a comatose state to keep itself alive. I heal while that happens."
His ravishing face paled, his towel falling to the floor. "You died?"
"It's not the first time and it won't be the last." Morana shrugged. She tugged off her shirt, a hiss of pain squeezing through her teeth, and found Damian facing the other way to give her privacy. "You can look."
The wound that took her life — where Clove had gutted her — was now a savage line running from below her navel to her bra's under-band. Goop and scabs covered the top of what would be a painful scar, the redness and inflammation making it appear that it would open again at the slightest touch.
The Fireborn swallowed thickly. "And that arsehole was going to kill you again?
" Darkness found itself in his tone, something Morana had never heard before.
It vowed to bring justice and ruination.
His fingers reached out towards her wound, but they retreated after he realised what he was doing.
"That's the punishment Silas gives me for failing or doing something wrong. Death." The necromancer recognised the look on his face, the apology brewing beneath the surface. She threw her towel onto his head to stop him. "It's okay."
"Okay?" Damian tugged the fabric down and crushed it in his grip. "You've stayed by Silas' side all this time even though he's been killing you?"
"We've had this conversation before," she pointed out. "I don't know where else I would go or what I would do. Even if I did try to leave, Silas needs me for his plans. He would find me no matter where I went."
"Bone girl." A soft plea begged her to reconsider.
"Dry yourself off. I wouldn't want you to get ill."
When his hands refused to move, Morana took the towel and started the job for him.
His hair and face were already done, so she reached for his neck.
After bringing it around the back to remove the stray droplets that had dripped from his hair, she took a corner of the towel and traced the line that ran from the base of his neck to his lower lip — where the makeup had once resided.
"I knew you were hiding something." She smirked.
A stroke of inked runes was concealed underneath. Each one was different in shape and size, the curved symbols rich with swirls purred with forbidden magic. From where his shirt parted, she could see they were etched even into his chest, leaving her wondering how far exactly they went.
"You're very observant." Damian sighed at the change of topic.
"Are they a fun tattoo from a drunken night out?" She internally winced. It would be a painful place to get inked.
"I wish. I- they're from a witch. The aftermath of a spell I asked for a few years ago," he confessed.
Morana raised her brows. "I wasn't expecting that one. You don't have to share this with me, if you don't want to," she added as the Fireborn's mouth opened again. "I've seen you have tattoos so I have my answer. That's enough for me."
"You've shared so much about your life that it's only fair. This is the information that Silas is holding over me, so don't share this with anyone else."
"I would never dream of it."
Damian reached for his throat, his thumb running along his Adam's apple where the biggest rune lay. "I asked a witch to seal off my fire magic. Because of these tattoos, I can no longer access it."
"And you asked for it to be restricted?" Her question was nothing but mere curiosity.
"A while ago, before I gave up my position to be in line to the Vahan throne, me and Matthian had a royal advisor. Lethan. He was a trusted and very close friend to both of us and he helped us in so many ways.
"Matthian is the strongest Fireborn Vahan has ever seen so, naturally, my power was similarly formidable.
I had a very difficult time controlling it and Lethan insisted he helped me learn.
We trained together for years and I had a light grasp on basic Fireborn skills, until he wanted to push me further. "
Morana took Damian's fingers which had switched to clutching the bedsheets, giving him something else to fiddle with.
"I killed him," he whispered. "It was an accident where I pushed my fire too far and I couldn't pull it back. He died because of it. That's why I sealed it off, so something like that could never happen again."
The assassin felt her heart drop into her stomach. He was just like her. He had accidentally killed the person who was closest to him and his actions had tormented him ever since. Just like she had killed her mother.
Tears formed in her eyes. "I'm sorry for berating you about not being able to use your magic when we went to the sorcerer. That was- I didn't know."
"It's okay. Like you said, you didn't know." Damian patted her on the head, his palm curving down to embrace her cheek.
His gaze lingered on her lips, a silent question to continue what they started on the beach. Before he could shuffle closer to her, he slid his fingers down to interlock with her hand instead.
"Your sister might help you leave Silas behind," he said, changing the topic once more. "After how she responded to your death, I have no doubt about it. Gods, everyone in the castle could hear her cries, bone girl. She still thinks you're gone."
"Maybe that's for the best." Morana wrapped the last towel around her shoulders, shivering at the memories that resurfaced. "My father would not be happy if I returned yet again."
The Fireborn's brows furrowed. "Would he have to know? Even if you don't like that option, you can come back to Vahan with me like I offered before. Anything as long as it's not to Silas. You do see how awful of a person he is, right?"
She did, but that was what scared her. Her boss was a vicious and cruel man who did anything it took to accomplish his goals — to secure his revenge on the royal family for a reason Morana hadn't been able to pry out of him.
But then what did that make her? She was a cursed monster who also wanted revenge.
Morana wanted her father to pay for killing her that night and Silas was her ticket to achieving that.
What was the difference between them?
"Are you not afraid of the information he holds over you? The moment he suspects you're plotting against him, your brother will find out what you did. Maybe even kill you if that isn't enough," she warned.
"My brother and I have been at odds for years now. Adding another reason for his distrust and dislike wouldn't do too much now." Uncertainty lingered in his answer.
As much as she wanted to leave Wyrith behind and start life anew in Vahan, was it a good idea to involve Damian? She didn't want to lose him too.
"The wall around the island won't disappear until the curse has been broken, and the only way to do that is for one of the royal twins to die," she reiterated. "And I can't die, fire boy."
Destiny couldn't be returned once it was set in stone. There was no escaping what it deemed to be correct and this was Morana's path.
"Is there really no way out of this other than death?" The Fireborn leaned forward on his knees. "Where would we even start to look for an answer like that?"
Morana frowned and laid back on the bed. She knew exactly where. How had her boss managed to gather his information for his plans? "Silas has a Necromancer's Tome that could hold an answer. It's the only shot we have."