Chapter 43
Ikick the door shut behind me, and my suit jacket falls to a heap on the ground. I leave a trail of clothing through the room and yank the gold dress off the hanger.
Thea dips in through the servant door with Marianne on her heels. Gemma follows close behind, her eyes red and swollen. She slides her fingers over her cheekbones, wiping away mascara.
My stomach lurches. “What’s wrong?”
“They killed him,” Gemma whispers.
I let out a long breath. “You knew Simon.”
She nods on a shaky inhale. “We grew up together. He was like a brother to me. I”—she sucks in a breath—“I hadn’t seen him in years. I didn’t know he was going to sign up for The Gales.”
An ache spreads beneath my chest bone. Another casualty of my decision. “Kressa showed me what he did for all those people. He was brave.”
Swallowing, she closes the distance and cups my face with her hands. “He did what he could.”
Warmth brews beneath her hands, and ribbons sink through muscle and into bone. Her teary eyes blink, and the glamour disappears.
Marianne helps me into the dress and slides it over my shoulders. She comes around to the back and clasps the zipper, but before she can tug it up, the door flies open and slams into the wall.
“Everyone out.”
Kressa fills the doorway, and our gazes lock. Her nails dig into the doorframe, barely holding herself back.
“Now.”
Her voice is thick and demanding, and something deep in my core stirs as her eyes lower to the pendant hanging in the center of my chest.
Harriet’s pants are sprawled at my feet, the shirt at the foot of the armchair. Thea notices the same moment I do, and she maneuvers herself over the clothing, her dress a cover as she kicks it beneath the bed.
Gemma offers Marianne a solemn nod, and they give Kressa a wide berth as they exit the room.
Thea hesitates.
“I’ll be okay,” I say. “Do you remember the plan?”
She wrings her hands. “Leave when the dancing begins, and go directly to Rita.”
I nod, and my stomach tumbles. If a guard catches her, they’ll take her to Caelus. But if she runs into a group of men like I did—I can’t bear the thought. I can only hope she’ll run fast enough, or land a lucky blow.
Reaching for my hand, she whispers, “To the ends of the earth.”
A sharp pain shoots behind my eyes, and tears fill my vision. I thread my fingers through hers and squeeze. “To the ends of the earth.”
Kressa taps at my mind, and I let her in.
I have people on the outside who will watch out for her.
I don’t hold back the tears slipping free. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
Kressa’s eyes soften, but she doesn’t look away, even when tears trail down my cheeks. If she’s important to you, she’s important to me.
Thea releases my hand and pauses at the door. She turns to Kressa and says something too quiet for me to hear, but I catch the words on her lips.
“Take care of her.”
Kressa nods, and Thea disappears, the door shutting with a click.
I comb through my hair. “You know, it’s considered rude to barge into someone’s room unannounced.”
In three long strides, she crosses the room and wraps her hands around the back of my neck. Her gaze skates over my face. “I had to make sure you were safe.”
I furrow my brows. “Safe?”
“I felt you in the ballroom. But I couldn’t find you, and the thought of you in danger, Briar—it nearly drove me mad. Because—”
I wet my lips. “Because, why?”
Her thumb rubs a line down the back of my neck. “Because you were afraid. And I’ve never felt your fear on my tongue until you thought you were going to lose me.”
She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and her nose brushes mine. Fingertips skim over the length of my bare arm, and I shiver beneath her touch.
She tips my chin, and a breath away from my mouth, whispers, “Where were you?”
“I wasn’t there.” I retreat a step. “Perhaps our connection isn’t as reliable as you thought.”
I turn to the mirror and reach my fingers to the zipper at my back. She comes up behind me and traces the curve of my spine in an unhurried sweep. Warmth pools behind my navel, and I tip my head back ever so slightly, soaking in the way my skin buzzes at her touch.
She lowers her mouth to the shell of my ear. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
Nudging my hand away, she inches the zipper up. I catch her reflection in the mirror, her honey eyes so dark they’re nearly unrecognizable.
“Kressa,” I say, my voice weak.
She doesn’t respond, only lowers her head and trails her nose over the dip in my neck. My vision clouds, and she sucks in a deep inhale, breathing me in.
“You smell like the ocean,” she whispers against the space below my ear. But all I want is for you to smell like me.
A shiver crawls up my back, and the light in my chest flares to life. Smiling, she sinks a finger beneath a strap and slides it along my shoulder. I shudder.
She lets out a low laugh. “Our connection is so sure, I can feel the way you react to every touch. The way that—even when you have a dagger to my throat—you ache for me.”
I press my back into her and let my head fall against her chest. She reaches around and lifts the pendant between two fingers.
“So, tell me Briar, where were you?”
The light in my chest snuffs out, and I pull away. “Maybe if you looked at what’s directly in front of you, you’d know.”
I suck in a sharp breath and lower my gaze from the mirror. Too close. Too dangerously close to revealing my secret.
“Trust me, there isn’t a room dark or crowded enough where I wouldn’t find you.”
My heart skitters, but I reign it in before it floats to her. I hold my breath until I have enough control to change the subject. “I heard what Isolde said about me.”
“I’ve known that you two are together.” A muscle tics in her jaw. “There’s nothing you need to explain to me.”
Her hands flex at her sides, and the air between us goes taut as a bowstring. I pull my gaze to her reflection—eyes dark and stormy. A hot wave crashes over me and wraps a rope around my heart, squeezing it.
I blink and whisper, “I can feel that. You’re jealous.”
Her face hardens. “It’s eating me alive.”
Turning on my heel, I face her. “Why? Why does it concern you what I do with my time, or who I spend it with?”
The pressure in the room thickens, and my heart thunders in my chest, the vise tightening.
She reaches a hand to my chin and drags a thumb over my bottom lip, gaze pinned on it. “Because the thought of you with anyone else drives me mad. The thought of someone else’s hands on you makes me so jealous I hardly remember my name. I can’t stop it.”
I tuck my fingers around the buttons of her suit jacket. “I can’t bear the thought of you with anyone else, either.”
“There is no one else for me.”
A lump rises in my throat, tears stinging as my heart pulls in opposite directions. “I—”
“Don’t,” she interrupts. “It’s okay.”
The noose around my heart retreats, and something slips in, taking its place. Something warm and sweet, yet unsure. Curious, yet hesitant.
She inches closer and threads her hand around the back of my head. I fight the urge to fall into her—to fall into something that promises heartbreak at best, execution at worst.
The emerald glow in my chest illuminates the sharp edges of her face.
A small smile creeps over her lips, and she shakes her head. “This dress is torture.”
An undiluted need pulls me closer, and my power swirls deep in my chest, begging to be freed. Her presence offers the smallest reprieve from the curse shackling me to the earth.
Just a sip. A taste of my power, and I’ll pull away. For a blissful moment, I can pretend the curse isn’t real—that the war raging across the sea doesn’t exist. I can pretend the prince I assassinated didn’t survive. That Isolde didn’t just use me as a weapon.
It’s just me and Kressa.
For now, in this moment, it can just be us.
My heart skitters around my ribcage. She inches closer, and I press my eyes shut, holding my breath. Power laps beneath my skin, anticipating the taste of her mouth on mine.
Then she’s gone. My eyes open, and she retreats another step, gaze lowered. I run a finger over my bottom lip, where it still tingles from her touch. A stone settles in my stomach. Perhaps I’ve misinterpreted everything, and nothing exists between us but our shared power.
She shoves her hands into her pockets. “We should get going.”
The light in my chest flickers, dims, and the warmth around my heart cools as if swallowed by ice. “You’re right. I’ve spent enough time avoiding Caelus.” I tilt my head. “Because that’s all this was about, right?”
The words hang in the air and turn sour, but the barb lands all the same.
She works her jaw. “Right.”
My reflection mocks me. A decade landlocked and forgotten—frozen in time. I step away and turn to the door. “Let’s go.”
She opens her mouth as if to say something, but presses it shut and takes the door from me. “We shouldn’t be seen entering together. I’ll go first. I’ll be there, if you need anything.”
“I won’t.”
With a curt nod, she slips through the door and out of sight.