Chapter 29 #2
Nostrils flaring and tendons straining his neck, he pushes off the wall. “Oh yes, you do. Hungry, wanton hands. And I tried to tell you. I told you I had darkness inside me. You wanted our darknesses to be friends, if I remember correctly. Very naked friends, by the way.”
He shrugs into his tunic, jerking the fabric down his tensing torso. I just stare at him, too bewildered to know what to do.
“Stop.” His voice splits the awkward silence. “Don’t look at me like I’m some freak of nature.”
“You are a freak of nature,” I sign.
His stare goes dark and cold. “No. I am Tiressia’s salvation and damnation, though I have never wanted to be either.
I keep Neri bound so that he cannot wreak havoc on the Northlands or any other part of this empire, and I have forfeited my own magick to do so.
Three centuries ago, I stumbled out of the Shadow World with a shattered heart and lost mind, fighting a godsdamn deity who used me to escape his eternal punishment and was ready to tear down the world with his vengeance.
” Alexus’s eyes gleam in the firelight. “And I won. That should tell you much about who I was then and who I am now. Also, a little thanks might be in order.”
His words sink in, and I’m left to wonder what would’ve happened if I’d let Alexus die on the green. Would Neri have died, too? Or would his spirit have been released?
“There will be more life after this,” he goes on.
“You will see your sister, and you’ll figure out your future from there.
If I’m not too late to save Colden, the kingdom and the vale will rebuild.
If I am too late, I guess I’m going on a quest to save this empire, and you’ll probably take to the seas and end up with someone who will make you a very happy woman.
” Sighing, he drags a hand through his hair and rests his hand on his hip.
“We just have to get out of this godsforsaken construct first without doing things to one another that we’ll regret. ”
We stand there, breathing hard, like we scaled the cliffs with our bare hands. Before I can reply, an infernal howl tears through the night. The horses sit up, their ears pricking, and Alexus and I look toward the tunnel.
He holds up a placating hand. “It’s all right. The wolves are just roaming, hunting for blood after the mess we left in the wood.”
Blood.
Slipping my hand beneath my arm, I tuck two fingers inside the hole in my bodice where the rocks dug into my skin. I flinch. The jagged wound stings at my touch, and it’s sticky wet.
I hold my bloody hand between Alexus and me and lift my arm to show him the cut.
His face blanches, and he immediately crosses the distance between us and inspects the injury, one hand firm on my waist. “You said you were all right.”
I wipe my fingers on my trousers and pull away from him to sign. “I thought I was.”
Another unearthly howl crawls into the cave, followed by another and another, like the animals are communicating a warning across the ravine.
“I told you before. The wolves won’t hurt us.
I have the God of the White Wolf inside me, for fuck’s sake.
” He grabs the gambeson, throwing it on.
“I’m going to have a look around and gather more brush.
You should heal that wound and consult the waters so we can decide what to do from here. You know who to look for.”
He moves toward the passageway that leads to the mouth of the cave, but he hesitates. After a moment, he turns and backtracks, coming straight for me, chin down, eyes leveled into the sexiest glare I’ve ever seen.
When he reaches me, he presses me against the cave wall, his body hard against mine, and kisses me with more passion than ever before, regardless of his words about futures and regrets.
I should push him away. This will never end well. But I can’t. One touch of his tongue against mine, and nothing else matters but us and this soul-rattling kiss.
He pulls back and runs his thumb over my wet, swollen lips.
“Raina Bloodgood, your mouth will be my ruin.” Tenderly, he kisses my forehead, then turns to leave.
Before he steps into the pool of bloody darkness spilling from the cavern’s entrance, he turns a look over his shoulder and holds up a finger.
“I’ll be back shortly. Stay. Here.” He tilts that dark head.
“And by all the gods, listen to me this time.”
The second he vanishes, I press my fingers to my mouth, wishing I could trap the tingling sensation left behind by every single one of his kisses. I’m in so much trouble.
For a while, I sit by the fire, so much new information simmering and stewing in my mind.
Outside the complications with Alexus, the Prince of the East means to conquer the City of Ruin and raise Thamaos.
I didn’t live when the gods ruled, and I’ve always been thankful for that.
I don’t want to live in a world where Thamaos reigns, which means I have to stop that from happening.
I take up my mother’s dish. Alexus and I haven’t been apart in so long that in his absence, I’m thankful for the distraction of scrying. But before I can begin, my eye catches on Alexus’s sword leaning against the cave wall.
I should take it to him.
No. I will stay here. He’ll be back soon; I know he will. He’s unfailing and unceasing and a host of other words I’ve painted him with. And, he has the God Knife.
I grab the curved Eastlander blade and slice a small line across the end of my fingertip.
A shiny bead of blood forms and waits to fall as my mind races over my options.
I could check on Hel or look for Finn like I’d wanted to before things went sideways, but Alexus is right. I know who I have to look for.
With a turn of my hand, my blood splashes into the water.
“Nahmthalahsh. Show me the Prince of the East.”
This time, there are no shadows or smoke or mist, just a moving image unfolding on the water’s violet surface.
The prince rides on horseback, a red mantle billowing at his back.
About thirty warriors and a flock of crows follow.
They’re in the wood, but not inside this construct.
At least it doesn’t look like they’re inside this construct.
They ride hard—on a road, not a path. The trees are lightly covered in white, their autumn leaves and needled branches cradling an early snow.
Flurries blow softly in the wind, and the first rays of a rising sun spear the forest’s canopy, the light warm and wavering.
My pulse thunders. They’re on Winter Road.
The Prince of the East will soon reach Winterhold.
I don’t have time to consider what to do with this knowledge. No time to hurry outside to see if my sister’s construct still stands.
Because the sound of footsteps and heavy breathing fills the passageway.
Fast as I can move, I grab the Eastlander knife and dart to the wall beside the entrance where that pool of bloody darkness spills into the cave. I press my back to the rocks and raise my weapon, my heart feeling like it might burst with trepidation.
A tall form in a scarlet cloak and bronze leathers creeps from the shadows, hatchet in hand. An Eastlander.
I don’t hesitate.
With all the strength left in me, I bring down my blade.