Chapter Twenty-Two
Twenty-Two
Adelasia
I cross the room and sit on the edge of the bed, curling my legs beneath me and resting my head against the headboard. My body aches. My bones buzz.
But it isn’t the rot that bothers me tonight.
It’s the guilt.
It’s the way I still taste Kaius on my lips and feel Rowan’s presence lingering in the studio. The way both of them exist in me now—one rooted in the past I clawed back from the grave to return to, and the other carved out of something new and burning and terrifyingly exciting.
I love Kaius. I love him.
But something in me is reaching toward Rowan, too.
It’s not just his magic that stirs when he’s near.
It’s not just the pull of an incubus feeding on desire.
It’s something far older. Something almost…
familiar. Something I feel like I could have tasted with Kaius before I turned myself into this monster.
I’m going to ruin them.
That thought comes quietly. Two whispers between the ears. One voice, fearful of ruining them. The other aching to do so. To hurt and control and bury.
They already have so much history etched into their skin on the broken vow on their arms. I see it every time they stand together. A tether that no amount of resentment or years of silence could break. A bond I’ll never understand.
Because I don’t have one.
There is no golden mark on my arm. No line etched into my flesh to say I belong to Kaius no matter how bad I want to.
He and Rowan both said there should be a bond. That I am his mate. But then why hasn’t it appeared?
Is it because of the magic inside me?
Am I even capable of being loved in the way I once was?
Or what if, in some twisted way, I’ve already been claimed by something darker?
I curl tighter into myself, the fabric of the sheets twisting in my fingers. I don’t know how to talk to Kaius about this without sounding desperate. And if I tried to talk to Rowan about it, I don’t want him to go gloating to Kaius about how I opened up to him instead of the man I died for.
But if he looks at me the way he does for much longer, I won’t be able to keep pretending I don’t feel a pull towards him.
I don’t want to choose between them.
But I’m afraid not choosing will tear us all apart.