Chapter 42 #2
His eyes closed for a few seconds that stretched while Thea’s chest ached with remembered pain. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I can only imagine how you must hate me.”
He couldn’t imagine her hurt. But she forced herself to speak truth. “I’m angry. I’m furious. I feel betrayed. But… I don’t hate you.”
He paused, a thread of hope in his curiosity. “Why not?”
She shrugged one shoulder, an angry gesture as if she were throwing off his probing questions.
“I haven’t managed it yet.” Her honest nature made her add, “And you did return to help me bind Erebus. I don’t think I could have done that without you.
I also understand the need to save your mother. I’d have done anything to free mine.”
Damon sighed, his shadows moving slowly between himself and the lantern, reminding Thea that there were some loyal ones that had never left him. One strayed closer to Thea, and she allowed it. One of her own shadows twined together with it as if they liked each other.
“I should have done that to him long ago,” Damon admitted finally. “Bound him in silver.”
“He might have been too strong for that in Iluna,” Thea pointed out. “He had far less power here in Thirstwood.”
“You are generous,” Damon said, “to defend me after what I’ve done.”
“Yes, I am.” Thea drew herself up, lifting her chin as she heard his warm chuckle. “Did you expect me to be modest?”
He put his palms up, his eyes moving over her face. “I think I know you better than that.”
“Do you?” She gave him a skeptical look, noting the hungry way he stared at her. “We’ve known each other such a short time.”
He took a step closer, and his eyes sparkled with the reflected torchlight. “Sometimes it’s not about the hours spent but what’s shared in those hours. If you see a person for who they truly are, what does it matter how long it took?”
She put out her hand. Damon looked surprised, staring at it blankly for a few seconds before he took it, sending a tingle of awareness through her palm.
Thea set the lantern on the ground before reaching into her pocket.
Her fingers grasped a pine needle arrow, drew it out, and jammed it into the fleshy part of his palm.
He sucked in a breath. “What is that?”
“Pine arrow.” She pushed the needle deeper, recalling Winter saying that it had to draw blood to work. “Pixie made. Enchanted.”
Damon swallowed. “I feel its effects.”
“Tell me why you came here tonight.” Her own skin warmed at the heat of him, the rapid drumbeat of his heart under her fingertips.
“I…” He pressed his lips together until they turned white, his eyes accusing. “Underhanded to force this out of me, Sylvan. I didn’t think you were cruel.”
She held his hand tightly, not blinking. “Then you don’t know me well, after all.”
He looked away, then back at her sharply, his voice breathless as the words poured out.
“I don’t want to live my life without you.
I curse myself for the decisions that led me to lose you.
I worry I’ll never be content again. I want to shut you out of my thoughts but there you are, every minute.
” With his free hand, he massaged his temple, as if it ached.
“I know you would never want to live in Iluna with me, and yet I would do almost anything to earn your forgiveness. I am weary of being without you.” His lips pressed together again, his brows furrowing as a frustrated sound came from his throat.
Finally, he said through gritted teeth, his eyes accusing, “Pixie spells are wicked.”
Thea’s senses reeled from his confessions. She sifted through what he’d said—putting most of it aside for the moment. “What would you do to earn my forgiveness?”
“I freed the scuccas,” he said, his eyes steady on hers.
“I’ve come into Thirstwood every night until it was done.
The witch’s thrall magic still lingers, and most of them fought me, but I was able to release their spirits with the help of my shadows.
” He moved his hand, and she let go. He rolled up both sleeves, showing angry scratches that could have come from branches.
“I had hoped that my efforts would mean something to you.”
Thea’s lips parted as she looked at the red gashes on his arms. He had freed the scuccas. For her sake. She took a steadying breath. “Go on.”
He tugged his sleeves down and stood straighter, meeting her eyes. “I am working on freeing the silver trees in Iluna… the ones I’m able to save. Those that have been in the realm too long… well, the best we can do is to send their spirits to Noctua, according to Prospect.”
Thea’s chest expanded in a relieved sigh at that news. She’d worried their spirits would be trapped in Iluna forever. But her lip curled at the mention of Prospect. “I thought the Seer had fled.”
Damon nodded. “After we dealt with Erebus, I kept thinking about what he’d said about the veils between realms. I needed to know if it was true.
So I searched until I found Prospect in the Cryptlands.
He’d been captured by the Skrattis, the fool, so I had to use my shadows to…
negotiate his release. I have bruises from that, too, but they are in rather less obvious places, and I can’t show you here. ” He lifted a brow at her.
She folded her arms, resisting the urge to smile. “I can’t believe you rescued Prospect.”
Damon’s look told her he couldn’t believe it, either. “Unfortunately, I need his help to strengthen the barriers. But some nights, when he is prattling on about spells, I’m tempted to jump into that monster-infested river so I won’t have to listen anymore.”
Thea couldn’t repress a laugh. “That feckless Seer helped save me by deceiving your father, then stole the boat and trapped me there.”
Damon shook his head, anger darkening his eyes. “Typical. He is useful about a fifth of the time. I haven’t decided whether to kill him when I’m done with him.”
“You won’t.”
Damon tilted his head. “No?”
“You won’t reward his help with murder, even if he is odious. You’ll be fair and show him more mercy than he deserves.”
He looked away. “We’ll see.”
“You are not your father,” Thea said softly. She saw the moment the compliment hit home, and warmth softened his eyes as they met hers again. But the pixie spell wouldn’t last, and she wanted to know all his truth. “What will you do if you finally earn my forgiveness?”
He shook his head, blinking. “Whatever you want. I thought… I could invite you and your sisters to the dance. Iluna could be a place of revelry. With free folk who remain free,” he added quickly.
“Merriment is fine,” she said, liking that idea, “but if you think Iluna is a barrier to the Old Ones waking, we need to find out more about that.”
“We?” His eyes widened.
Thea lifted her hand and brushed it against the shadow that circled his throat, not touching him directly.
He shivered, his nostrils flaring. Seeming to recover himself, he gave a single, slow nod.
“It might take some time. Research. Experimentation. Dedication to the task. I might need you there often.”
“However,” she added, “it’s doubtful I’ll be allowed to return to Iluna at all. My father and mother won’t like it.”
“Ah.” He looked down, clearing his throat.
“So your first task would be to win their forgiveness,” she clarified.
“Mmm.” He sounded skeptical. “I would have better luck fighting a hundred more scuccas.”
Thea decided he’d earned a morsel of hope. “My mother says you argued for her freedom when she was first trapped.”
He looked up sharply. “She remembers that?”
Thea nodded. “She thinks you have goodness in you, but you didn’t have much chance to practice it. My father, however, will be harder to persuade.”
He let out a slow breath. “My father and your father were old enemies. I would have to do something exceedingly impressive to make King Silvanus change his mind about me.”
“Agreed.” Thea reached out and touched his cheek, enjoying his quick inhale. “And even if you do gain their trust,” she said, hearing the betraying emotion in her own voice, “you’ll still need to prove yourself to me. That’s more important.”
Damon’s chest rose and fell as he pressed his face into her hand. “Yes. That is most important.”
Thea felt as if she were on the edge of something, poised to leap over a deep crevasse that might be too wide to clear.
Then again, maybe it was more like jumping off a rock into the Scar, knowing the water would break her fall.
The thrill of risk blended with the promise of reward, enticing her.
She liked both too much to back away from this.
“You are never to lie to me again,” she said, her fingers sliding into his hair. As soft and thick as she remembered.
Damon reached up and gripped her hand, speaking in a firm voice. “I vow never to lie to you again, Theodora. In Noctua’s name.”
Thea gasped, shocked. “A vow to Noctua is sacred. It’s not like being in Iluna, cut off from the Ancients. If you break this one, she’ll take your life.”
He stared at her, his eyes telling her he understood. She stared back, absorbing what he’d just done for her. An owl hooted in the distance, and it seemed to Thea that Noctua herself had replied to his promise. The other night birds hushed in the silence.
“The effects of the pine needle will be wearing off,” she said finally, lifting his hand to remove the tiny arrow, then brushing at the spot of blood that welled up in its place.
“But now that you made that foolish promise, I suppose it doesn’t matter.
” She bent her head and pressed her lips to the wound, tasting the copper of his blood.
It felt as if she had made a pact, too. That she would fight for him for as long as he fought for her.
Damon’s hand was gentle as he took her face and tilted it so he could look into her eyes. “Please tell me I have some hope of earning your trust again, Thea.”
Warmth at his look, his tone, and everything he’d said spread through her body, leaving a lightness in its wake.
And the feel of him against her, solid and real and there for her, now and in her future…
it meant something. And she was herself with him in ways she was not with anyone else.
She wanted him, and couldn’t imagine a time when she wouldn’t.
“I am devising tasks,” she said, sliding her hands to his back, spreading her fingers to savor the muscles that rippled under her palms, pulling him toward her until their chests touched.
She absorbed his shudder of pleasure as if it were her own.
“Tasks you’ll have to perform to gain my approval.
” She touched her tongue to the corner of his lips, very lightly.
“Without question,” he breathed.
He made promises to her without speaking, and she decided to believe every single one.