16. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Valda
I can’t take it any longer. I thought I had no heart after my Vater carved it out during the Dark Ritual. But even being the monster that I am, I cannot stomach this a moment longer.
Especially when Konrad is the one who makes that chasm in my chest feel a little less empty.
Even though I see everything as he did in his memory, I don’t have access to his deeper thoughts. Which is just as well because I don’t think I could bear them after he came across the slaughter of his entire family . . . And his wife?
The woman who he came upon before finding Eloise was clearly her mother. Yet he seemed no more upset than when he found the rest of his family. But that could have been the shock.
Eloise was the same age in that memory as she is now, so it couldn’t have been that long ago that Konrad was widowed. Mayhap that is why he keeps pulling away? Because he’s grieving the love of his life?
Even now, when he’s facing away from me, I can feel the waves of sorrow rolling off him .
As carefully as I can to keep from betraying my presence in Konrad’s mind, I draw him out of the memory. Slowly, I ease him deeper into his subconscious, where he can dream nonsense and not horror. I’ve fed more than enough from his memories tonight, and I no longer need his blood.
Settling Konrad’s mental version of himself on a grassy hill in his dreamscape, I pull back.
However, despite no longer being in his memory, Konrad’s dream self looks so lost, so broken, even from behind. His shoulders are shaking. Is he . . . is he sobbing?
I did not realize that werw?lves could weep.
“I didn’t mean to make them suffer,” he gasps. “Kill the shedder of innocent blood, but without cruelty. That is what the Elder said . . . Don’t become a monster like them. But I was already a monster!” Konrad drops his head into his hands as his shoulders convulse.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I rest my figment hand, still gloved even in this dreamscape, on his figment shoulder. My memories supply me with a sense of touch as realistic as if we were doing so outside the dreamscape.
I’m careful to stand behind me so Konrad doesn’t know. Not that I think he’ll realize that my existence in his dreams means I was dream walking like only an estrie can do, since that is far from the most notorious feature of my kind.
Konrad places a hand on mine. “Valda?”
I wince. Apparently, his mind was all too ready to fill in the sensation of my touch.
Using his hold on my hand, Konrad spins me closer to him, twisting around so he’s facing me. His other hand goes to my waist, steadying me. Tears still stain his face, but he’s no longer crying as he studies me in confusion.
“What are you doing here?” he whispers .
The world shudders, flashing multiple scenes in a moment as Konrad tries to register my presence. I need to distract his mind from any discrepancies by laying a foundation in what he knows. “You abducted me, remember?”
Konrad’s face falls. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, but your father . . .”
The world around us steadies, selecting a scene and remaining within it. We’re back on the island, the waterfall flowing behind me. I found the right words to distract him with his own inner turmoil.
And to confuse me after witnessing his memory. Does he think my vater was somehow involved with the Night of the Broken Walls? Because he has nothing against kinfolk— or mortals, either. They do not exist to be hated or loved, merely fed upon and ruled over.
“He’s the last person I need to take vengeance upon to fulfill my role as kinsman avenger,” Konrad whispers. “So it doesn’t fall upon Eloise. And so . . . so I can provide better for her.”
“That’s why you need the ransom so badly?” I whisper. “Because you do not think you can be a father without it?”
“Well, I don’t want to drag her along on my dangerous missions. But I also don’t feel comfortable leaving her at home—”
Reaching up, I smooth back a wayward lock of hair. Even his dreamscape self is deliciously disheveled. “I wish you weren’t so sweet.” It would make my life a lot easier if he were cruel and exacting like captors are supposed to be.
Once again, Konrad’s hand follows mine, this time trapping it to his face. “I wish you weren’t so pretty.”
I’m startled by his directness. Of course, I know he knows I’m pretty, but to be so blatant—
That’s right. We’re in his dreamscape, where normal inhibitions are not in place. He might think it’s reality, but there’s a part of him that knows he is supposed to be alone in his head. This is where he can be free.
Konrad curses by the sun or maybe the moon. I don’t notice as he abandons my hand to grip both sides of my face.
“I hate that you’re pretty so much.”
Oh, yes, I’m driving him mad after all.
To prove my point, Konrad pulls my face to his.
His lips are rough, demanding, and unrestrained in their passion. Like him, there’s a part of me that knows this isn’t happening— not really. But my memory can fill in the feeling of his kiss easily enough, and my mind is dark enough to fill in the gaps.
Let’s see how dark his mind is.
Even though it serves no purpose, since my power over men doesn’t work when it is not my body he is truly kissing, I want to find out.
Fisting his shirt, I pull myself higher to kiss him more firmly in return. Then I kiss him deeper than I dared before when we were real and there were consequences greater than him possibly being affected by my magic. Because I have suspected for a long time that I was the one more affected. That doesn’t matter now.
I can’t fall in love with him in a dream.
Konrad moans and staggers backward, taking me with him. Then, suddenly, we’re in the pool beneath the waterfall. The transition is too smooth to have happened in reality, but the warm water flowing up to my waist is convincing.
His mouth strays from mine, desperately trying to map out my entire face. He pushes away the damp strands of my hair that are sticking to my face. And my gown, which has become the chemise that he tore, is drenched and clinging to my body. His figment’s garments are completely untouched by the water we stand in .
Despite myself, a laugh escapes me. This is definitely his dream.
Konrad chuckles in reply, though I’m not sure what about. He’s quickly distracted by my throat, which he kisses like he’s the estrie, not me.
Standing here in his dream where he can control all the elements, I still somehow feel like I have all the power.
“Do you still hate that I’m pretty?” I ask with a happy chirp.
Konrad’s hands on my hip tighten their grip and drag me closer against him. “I loathe it.”
“Do you wish you didn’t want me?”
Twisting his head, he kisses the bottom of my chin. “With every fiber of my being.”
I’m not sure if he’s confessing to hating wanting me desperately— or admitting he desperately wants me. Either way, my body grows hotter than a corpse ought to, and the warm water has nothing to do with it.
Not that I feel undead just now. I’ve never felt so aliv e.
Konrad straightens, reaching behind me. He grabs hold of my chemise and tears it as deeply as he cut it last night. But there is a completely different intention churning in his gaze now.
I decide to be helpful for once in my life and tug the torn garment over my head. Tossing it aside, I glance down . . . And find that I’m still wearing it.
Confused, I continue to stare as Konrad pulls me back to himself, his hands playing with the bare skin on my back. The rest of me is covered, though, even as he pulls me directly under the waterfall.
Is this . . . is this as undressed as he can imagine me?
“I wish . . . I wish I could be the man you want me to be.” Konrad buries his face in my hair, his fingers still clutching my back and holding me in a tight embrace. This hug doesn’t feel like passion, though; it is a desperation of a different sort. One tinged with regret.
“What kind of man do I want?” I whisper as I stare at the column of his neck. Surely, he hasn’t been so foolish as to fall for me.
“We should have run away together like you asked,” he whispers. “I could have eloped with you like a gallant rogue from your bards’ songs. But I can’t provide for you.”
I am utterly speechless as Konrad pulls away enough to lean his forehead on mine, the water streaming around us. “I can’t.” His voice speaks to a broken heart. “I can barely provide for Eloise. Can barely protect her. I couldn’t protect them .”
And just like that, we’re back in the memory I tried to distract him from, the dead littered around us.
My mouth parts, and I consider how to distract him again. Then words tumble from my lips as though it were my dreamscape and I were the one lacking in inhibitions. “What if I didn’t need you to protect me and provide for me? What if we could protect and provide for each other ?”
Konrad looks at me with as much confusion as I feel, as though he’s never considered that possibility. I certainly never did until this moment stolen from reality in a waterfall.
Now it seems less like a platitude spoken to comfort him and more like a promise to myself. A dark promise of forbidden things I have no right to long for.
But I’m not the only one filled with longing just now.
Slowly, delicately, without the hunger that drove him before, Konrad leans his head toward me. “I wish . . . I wish I weren’t your villain.” Konrad’s eyes slowly drift closed, and his lips find mine.
And I’m not sure how I know how to paint this kiss in my mind, because it’s something that I’ve never truly felt before. I’ve always been cherished by my vater and desired by other men.
But never until this moment have I felt delightful.