Chapter 40 Karia
Karia
We sit across from one another in the bathtub.
Steam swirls around us, bubbles between us, pink candles Alivia found in the library—that must have once belonged to Mercy Rule—lit along the ledge of the tub, below the frosted bay window.
There is so much horror tracked across my lover’s skin, but he is the most beautiful I have ever seen, here with me, his guard lowered enough to let me see him like this.
The bathroom door is locked, the bedroom outside of it too, and I told Cosmo—drinking whiskey alone down the hall—to keep an ear out and head anyone off who might think to venture up here.
But I doubt anyone will.
It is nearing midnight, and we have spent the day clearing bodies, lighting them on fire a mile out in the backyard, among the rolling hills. It smells like death and smoke out there, and I could not imagine a better scent to announce our victory.
Stein Rule is dead.
Cosmo’s father, too.
Sanford. Constance. Arthur. Rex.
The idiotic drivers who landed themselves at the mercy of a dead fool. The bodies of the guards who were at this home are burning as well.
The tinted SUVs have been towed, a connection Isadora and Von had, thanks to Writhe.
Writhe.
Tomorrow, someone from the cult will arrive.
But that is tomorrow’s problem, and not tonight’s.
“You are gorgeous.” I whisper the words in the dark, the bathroom fan on to give us a greater illusion of privacy. Sullen asked if it would bother me, if he turned it on.
I want him to relax. I want him to know he is safe now, here, and so I said no.
Not at all. Nothing can bother me, if I have him.
It truly does feel that way. And while Writhe will likely want his head—Stein Rule was once the leader, after all, and there must be punishment for that—and even if they allow him to live, there will be a fight over us together, it does not seem to matter right now.
Right now, what matters is we survived.
Isa and Von will have to handle what happens to Alivia and the rest of the Emporium dinner party. They know too much now after all, but Writhe cannot murder all four of them without consequence, and they will not go after Cosmo, on account of what he already knows about us all.
On account of him being Klein’s son.
I think of what it will be like to speak to Cosmo alone. No doubt he will want to know his father’s last words, last thoughts, last something.
But that, too, can be dealt with later.
Sullen lifts his eyes, long lashes damp from when I splashed him the moment we first settled in.
Our knees touch, but nothing else. My hair is up, braided and curled on top of my head, thanks to Isa. Once we had all showered, she did it silently, as we sat around the dining table.
I did not stop her.
Anything to not think about what I have done.
Pink blossoms on Sullen’s cheekbones. “Stop,” he whispers, but there is a soft smile curled on his plush mouth.
“Never.” I feel drunk, despite the fact the only thing I have had all day is water. There is a giddiness in my chest I have never known without alcohol. “I’m in love with you.” I have already told him I loved him, but I need him to know the truth, even if he does not say it back.
His eyes still. His entire body. I see the muscles along his shoulders stiffen. The lump at his throat roll.
I hate what was done to him, but I am going to love him so deep, so hard, it will cover it all up. He will be the most loved boy in the entire world if it is up to me.
“I’m so in love with you,” I whisper. “I want this. Whatever this turns out to be, I want it, Sully.”
His breath catches, lips parted. He is staring at me in a way that says he does not yet trust love, but he so very much wants to.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I carry on, content to speak where he cannot or will not. “You don’t have to love me back… yet.” I grin at him, and I swear his eyes grow lighter. “So long as you don’t love anyone else, either.” My mind drifts to Maude.
If they touched one another, if she put her hands on him, I do not care what history she recorded that I will use later to bargain with Writhe. I will murder her.
I have gotten a taste for it now.
And it looks as if he sees that, in my eyes, because he lifts his chin and he says, “Come here, Little Sun.”
My heart races. Trips. Little Sun.
His Sun.
I bite my bottom lip and his eyes flare. We are both so sore, my body feels as if it has been thrown into a blender and put on high, but the heat of desire sparks inside of me all the same.
And I cannot deny him.
Not anymore.
I shift forward, water lapping up the sides of the tub, my body half-risen, my nipples tight points. Sullen glances down at my breasts, and I grin so wide, it hurts my face.
But then he frowns.
And I glance down.
One half of my breast and all along my sternum is splotchy black and blue, edged with pink. It looks like an oil spill, the size of my palm. And as I stare at it, I feel the pain, too, as if now, looking away from my prince, I am no longer numb from brutality.
My throat grows tight, itchy. My body feels shaky.
It is as if now that the adrenaline has worn down, I am realizing, for the first time, what has happened today.
Sanford.
Stein.
I killed them.
Klein.
Sullen ripped his jaw apart with his bare hands, and suffocated him with a gun.
We burned bodies today.
We may die at the hands of Writhe.
My father never came.
Cosmo never heard an apology from his own. We don’t even know if Klein knew he had a son. Everything is done, yet nothing is at all.
Exhaustion grows heavy in my limbs. I am halfway to Sullen, my knees pressed to the bottom of the tub, but it feels as if I might collapse.
I do not think I can go much further. I do not think I will make it. I want to be strong for him, because I know he has suffered far worse than I have. But the bruise on my chest from being kicked, the weakness in my bones, the tiredness of my muscles, I do not think I can do it.
And he catches me.
At the right time, when I need him, he is there.
He pulls me to his chest. He cradles me like a baby in his arms.
Our bodies are close, my head against him, his arms beneath me, holding me tight, firm enough to hurt, but it is exactly what I need. I feel how he vibrates beneath me, as if the sight of me injured has undone him too.
He bows his head. His lips are pressed to my temple.
“Karia,” he whispers.
I squeeze my eyes closed tight, both hands on his chest as we cling to one another in the bathtub. I once imagined this impossible. Now, I cannot imagine anything else.
Just this.
Just us.
“You.” That is all he says, and it sounds as if the word alone undoes him. The love in it, the fierce protectiveness, the agony, the regret, the longing, it is really all I need.
But he does not stop.
“Karia.” He says it again.
I inhale the warm air, the scent of candles and bubbles and him. Dying roses, a cemetery in the rain during the fall. My comfort. My protection. My sun, too.
“I don’t have words.” His voice breaks, like my father’s did, but this means something more, because he was in it with me, shielding my body with his own in a way Antwine Ven never would. Never could. “I don’t have… the right thing to say.” He is gasping now.
Crying.
He is crying.
I hear it in his voice, feel it in his body, and I only nuzzle against him more, desperate to vanish any space between us.
“But you are my life now.” It is a confession swallowed by a sob.
He rocks back and forth.
I feel tears prick behind my closed eyes as I listen. Let him speak.
“You are everything. You always have been. My solace. The reason I kept going. The reason I am here. You are all of it.”
I swallow the lump in my throat.
I dig my nails against his chest. I know he wants it, the pressure, the pain, the reminder I am here and I am not going anywhere.
Not without him.
“And I want you to be more.” He presses his lips to my temple. “I want you to be my wife. I want you to have my children.”
My eyes fly open.
I am staring up at him now.
All the air feels gone from my lungs. It is something I never would have expected him to say in any seriousness, beyond torturing me. Not after what he grew up with. Not after what happened to his mother in front of his eyes.
“I want us.” There are tears falling from his deep brown eyes, carving lines down his face.
I reach up tentatively.
He lets me cup my hand to his cheek, along his jaw.
I rub my thumb over his mouth and he speaks around it. “I want everything.” A laugh bursts free from his tears. “I have had nothing. I want everything, and I want it with you.”
My bottom lip trembles.
I don’t think I could speak if I tried.
“I have always loved you,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine. He does not waver. “I will never stop.”
My nostrils flare.
I try to breathe. It feels too much and not enough, all at once.
I shift in his arms, until I am straddling him, my knees bracketing his strong body. I loop my arms around his neck.
I can feel him, hard beneath me.
“Can I?” I ask, wanting to ride him. Wanting to love him.
Not fuck.
Love.
A thing I do not think I have done with anyone else.
He swallows hard.
Glances down at the bruises on my body. His hands are heavy on my hips.
“You do not have to,” he whispers, looking up at me through his lashes.
“I want it so much, Sully,” I speak over his mouth, our temples together.
Then he nods, so slowly.
And I reach between us, stroking him under the water, then I settle my hips, and a gasp leaves my lips as I slowly sink myself down on the full length of him.
A groan leaves his throat, and it sounds like the rest of my life.
I slip out into the hallway, leaving Sullen sleeping soundly in the bed, sheets pulled up to his neck, his eyes closed, body at peace.
I cannot stop the smile on my face, thinking of his cum inside of me, both of us reaching climax when his fingers worked me over between us with only a little of my own help.
I clung to his neck, his lips pressed softly to my sternum, and the growl in his throat was probably heard by half the house.
Let them hear, I think to myself as I pull the door partly closed behind me. Especially Maude.
But it is Cosmo I come face-to-face with, as I knew I would.
I could feel it between us, considering his room is only across the hall from mine. Or maybe it was only in my head, but he’s here, on the floor, spine to the wall, his own door open at his side, light spilling into the corridor.
He has a bottle of whiskey between his fingers and his bleary gaze is on mine.
In Sullen’s black T-shirt and black joggers, I sink down across from my friend, mirroring his posture.
And Cosmo asks, “Are you okay?”
But we both know there is no proper way to answer that question with any ounce of truth. If I tried, we would be here all night.
And so I just say, “I think I will be,” and I mean it.
Cosmo nods once. Takes a drink from the whiskey. He is wearing a white sweatshirt, white joggers. But the aura around him is as dark as the night outside Haunt Muren.
“You’re the evil scientist now,” he says with a hiccup, grinning at me, but it does not reach any part of his heart. “This is your castle, isn’t it?”
I humor him because I know he is hurt and ask with care, “The scientist?”
“You ran an experiment and calculated the conclusion. You were right, choosing him.” He gestures toward my back. “Your hypothesis that there was more beneath the broken boy, it all checked out.”
“He was never broken.” I do not care what type of mood or hurt Cosmo carries. No one will ever insult Sullen Rule again. Not in my presence.
Cosmo nods once, and drops his gaze to the bottle he holds in both fists now, balancing it on his knee. He is staring at it like it’s his salvation.
I know that feeling.
Too well.
“I’m sorry, about the trap door.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re not.”
“I wanted to keep you safe.”
“I am, but not thanks to you.”
He smiles and asks without looking at me, “I’ll never be able to fuck you again, huh?”
I bristle. “If he heard you ask that, you would already be dead.”
He glances at me. “So it’s a no?”
I do not smile. “Tell me where it hurts the most.”
The grin on his lips falls away. He swallows hard and looks at the floor. Then he says, “Did he ask about me? Did… he say anything?”
I know who he means.
Klein.
I wish I could make it stop hurting, so badly. I wish I could do something. For a brief heartbeat, it crosses my mind that I should lie. Give him what he needs to hear to sleep well at night. But I can’t do that to him.
There have been too many lies in this house.
“No,” I say softly.
He nods once, trying to be stoic, but I know he wants to fall apart.
My heart aches. Everything hurts all over again. Cosmo was there for me when I couldn’t be there for myself. But there is nothing I can do to heal him now.
He takes another drink, and I do not scold him. Not tonight.
“Fuck what he thought or didn’t think about you.” I whisper it, speaking through the tightness of my throat.
He does not look at me.
“You matter to me. And even though he will never tell you, you matter so much to a boy who has suffered his entire life in this room behind me, until tonight. Until us.”
Cosmo’s bottom lip trembles.
“You are more than his son.” I speak it fiercely. It is the most I can do. “And you are always welcome to our home.”
He looks up at me then, and he breaks into a smile. A gasp.
I feel it, too, alongside the tears streaming down my own face. I shrug once. “What? I’m the Scientist of Haunt Muren, aren’t I?”
He inclines the bottle toward me in a mock cheers. “Much more fitting than the princess, Sunshine.”