Chapter 46
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
SANORA
I hadn’t moved from the bed since reading the letter that morning. It was past eight at night now, and I lay curled up, my mind too full and empty all at once.
Safe to say I handled the aftermath well—if “handled well” meant not shedding another tear since I found out. I just kept staring at the wall, thoughts running a relentless marathon through my head. I was exhausted from it alone, desperate for sleep, but my mind wouldn’t rest.
Both dark and hopeful thoughts looped endlessly. Whenever the darker ones began eating me alive and dragging me close to tears, I’d lift the letter clutched in my hand and read it again.
Winifred’s voice echoed in my ears, telling me how Thrax was confused. That he had feelings for me only because of the soul inside me. Because the soul inside me made him come alive at a close distance, and he’d mistaken that for real feelings.
If I didn’t carry the soul, if he didn’t feel human whenever I was close, would he still see me the same way?
If I wasn’t the key to his salvation, would he still look at me like I was the best thing he’d ever crossed paths with?
I didn’t know.
But I chose to believe he would. He’d written it in the letter, told me not to mistake his feelings for fate. That he chose me. That I was his.
I’d read that letter so many times I could recite it by heart. Those words were the only thing keeping my thoughts from eating me alive, and I clung to them desperately.
I still couldn’t sort my thoughts. Everything felt fake. It was hard to believe I was carrying something so important, something that mattered so much to someone. He’d claimed he didn’t want it, that he’d rather live another thousand years than take my soul, and I understood him.
He wasn’t saying that entirely because of what he felt for me. Kalimetryna had once died for him. She’d died so he could live, and she had been his only friend.
Giving him the soul inside me and dying would be repeating history—reliving what I supposed was the worst day of his life.
He said he loved me. The last thing he’d want was someone close to him dying because of him again.
I closed my eyes, my head aching from the spiral of my own thoughts. I’d been circling them for hours, and I was numb.
If I stayed one more minute in bed, my head might explode.
Weakly, I pushed myself up, feet finding the floor. I padded to the bedroom door and then to the kitchen, pulling the fridge open to drink some water.
As I drank straight from the bottle, I closed my eyes, pressing back the pounding ache in my head as my neighbour’s music filtered faintly through the walls.
It was almost nine p.m. when I remembered I hadn’t eaten dinner, and Thrax must have dropped my next meal outside the door.
With fingers rubbing slow circles into my temple, I walked to the door, turned the knob, and pulled it open.
A soft gasp escaped me before I could stop it, my legs nearly losing their balance as I staggered a step back.
There, leaning against the pillar of my porch as if he’d grown out of the wood itself, was a figure I knew by instinct before my eyes could name him, his head bowed and arms crossed over his chest.
He lifted his gaze at the sound of the door. Our eyes locked for a heartbeat, then those dark, bottomless orbs that had once seemed to swallow entire nights moved, roving down my body in a slow, unreadable sweep. His throat worked with a swallow as his gaze returned to mine.
My heart thumped violently in my chest, so loud I thought I might pass out.
It felt like seeing him after twenty years.
My chest couldn’t contain itself. It was as if my caged heart had begun battering against bone and wanted out—excitement, relief, fear—all of it swelling just at the sight of him in his usual dark coat and darker hair, that face so calm and unreal I found myself falling in love again.
I couldn’t speak, I didn’t even know what to say. I hadn’t expected him here. He’d been nothing but a ghost these past days, appearing only to leave food at my door and vanish. And yet here he was, standing on my front porch and ending my self-imposed exile earlier than he planned.
“Hi.” His voice rolled out the same as I remembered — rich and gravelly, deep enough to reach into me and tug at the threads of my heart.
He uncrossed his arms and slipped his gloved hands into his coat pockets, pushing himself off the pillar and taking a single step towards me.
I drew in a small, steadying breath, anything to keep my voice from breaking. “How long have you been standing here?”
As if not expecting that to be my first question, he paused, thinking. “Ten minutes.”
Ten minutes. Really? I shook my head slowly. “Don’t lie to me.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Twenty-five?”
I sighed. “Thrax.”
“Fine.” He took another step closer. “I don’t know how long, but I’ve been here long enough for your neighbour to play fifty-two songs, five of them twice and three of them four times.”
My heart stuttered.
He moved closer again. “His music taste kind of sucks, don’t you think?”
I wanted to answer, but my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, words dissolving before they could make it out. I could only stare at him, the tears I’d successfully kept at bay since morning threatening to break free.
“You should ask if I even know what a music taste is.”
That almost made me laugh, but I rolled my teary eyes with a scoff instead. “What the hell are you even saying?”
“I’m saying—” he closed the distance between us completely, his tone dropping to a caress of a whisper—“I miss you. And I don’t think I can bear not having you in my arms for one more day.
Believe me, I tried to stay away…” he sighed, shaking his head, “…I really did. But you know who you are, Sanora. It’s impossible. ”
I couldn’t stop the tear that slipped free as my voice shook. “Who am I?”
He stared into my eyes for a long moment before the words began to pour out of him with ease, like he didn’t need to think about it.
“My damnation. My downfall. My delirium. My obsession. My abyss. My torment. My hunger. My ruin. My weakness. My destruction. My undoing. My light…” his eyes blazed like fire, “…mine. You’re mine. ”
Why did he know so many words? My throat closed, and I bit my bottom lip hard to keep it from trembling as his face blurred through my tears.
He kept going. “If you still need space, I don’t think I can—”
I rushed into him, my arms locking around his torso.
It took him a second, but when his hands came around me, they were tight and crushing, enveloping me in the scent and warmth I’d missed so badly.
“Fuck, Sanora.” He buried his face in my hair. “I missed this so much.”
I wanted to tell him I missed it too, but no words would form. The only thing I could do was cry.
I cried into his chest, all the tears I’d been hoarding bursting out of me.
I didn’t know what it was about his presence that always tore me open.
Seeing him always made me want to burst into tears—either from too much joy, or from the jagged mix of feelings that came with hugging him like he was life itself.
I was sad and happy at once. Sad that his curse could only be broken in the cruellest way imaginable, and that he had gone through the worst shit in the past. Happy because he was right here, and I was seeing him again.
I refused to let him go, so he walked us inside the house and closed the door with one arm still around me. We held each other for long minutes until the tears slowed and I felt drained of everything that had been choking me for days.
Then Thrax shifted, his hands sliding to my shoulders, pushing me back gently. One hand came up to my chin, tilting my head up.
“Look at me,” he said softly.
“I am—”
“No.” He leaned in. “Look like you remember who you belong to.”
That made me meet his dark eyes. They roamed over my face with an obsession no one else could match, and I realised—no one could appreciate me in a single stare the way Thrax did.
“I want you to know something for sure,” he murmured, peeling his leather gloves from his hands and letting them fall to the floor.
“What is that?” My voice was small.
He cupped my face in his bare palms, warmth spreading across my cheeks.
“I don’t care. Let the moon curse me. Let eternity bleed me dry.
I don’t care if your soul saves me or damns me.
You are mine, Sanora, and I will go on wanting you until the stars themselves collapse.
” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “Remember that. Always.”
There goes my heart and tear ducts again.
I’d said it before, but Thrax really knew how to say the best things. And I wondered if he’d spent his years perfecting it the same way he’d learnt and perfected everything else, or maybe it was just very natural for him.
I nodded, filing those words to the space closest to my heart. “I want to hear it.”
“Hear what?”
I bit my lip, hesitating. “What you wrote in the letter. Can I hear it in person? You said you love her…and the depth of it terrifies you.” I held his gaze, holding my breath. “Tell me.”
Winifred’s voice telling me Thrax didn’t love me was still too loud in my head. I needed him—his voice—to drown it out. Even if I already knew, I needed to hear him say it.
“I love you.” He nodded once, sure. “I love you, Nher. Love you so much it’s too much for my heart. I’ve never been so certain of anything in my life.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. I didn’t know why I thought I could handle hearing the Soulless Man tell me he loved me. Because suddenly, I couldn’t speak. My lips felt paralysed, and if I forced them apart, I might just break again.
“I know, Sanora. I know how you feel.” He placed his hand over his heart. “I can feel everything right here.” Bringing it back up, he caught a tear on his thumb. “Now, let’s go home.”