Chapter 27
Aimee
The climb back to the surface was much shorter and completely uneventful. We walked in tense silence, Killian glancing over his shoulder at me from time to time, as if to reassure himself that I would not vanish from his grasp.
What I said inside the sanctuary must have rattled him.
Regret coats my tongue like a heavy layer of lead.
It was not my intention to doubt his affections, to doubt us.
But the idea of a fated soulmate, the lack of choice in who you fall for, does not sit well with me.
I need to know my choices are my own, and not predetermined by who we were in our previous lives.
Who am I kidding, though? It wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. Even if Ereshkygall’s answer would have been different, he’s too ingrained in every fiber of my being, nestled too deep in the crevices of my soul, for it to matter.
I love him. It’s as simple as that.
He glances back at me again, just as the blinding light of the outside world overwhelms us, and the silence of the tunnels shatters in the raging blizzard.
“I’m right here, Killian. I’ll always be,” I say, a small smile playing on my lips as I reach for his stiff hand and wrap it in my warmth. His rigid posture slackens as he releases a breath Gods know for how long he was holding in.
There are no Gods. The realization hits me hard once again; the thought playing loops in my head since Ereshkygall’s admission. All this time I held a burning grudge against the deities, blaming their lack of concern for my many misfortunes. The truth was starker than that.
It wasn’t that they didn’t care about their subjects. They just were not real.
Another lie thrust upon us by those in power as a means to retain their positions at whatever cost. Through the blood, sweat, and tears of others. Never their own.
This realm has suffered for far too long. This has become about much more than defeating my sister. My tormentor.
Losing was never an option, but even less so now.
My steps falter just before stepping out of the mouth of the cave, as K’haram’s presence embraces me with familiarity.
My bonded.
Not my ancestor’s.
Mine.
“Omri.” His voice washes over me with longing and regret, and I finally understand the calling of my soul.
The final puzzle piece is in place, and it paints a devastating picture.
“So many secrets, K’haram.”
“My insides corroded from the truth withheld, Omri. A physical ache I could not extinguish, but the oath I made to you as Aeon was above my will.”
“I understand, dear friend,” I answer soothingly. “It’s time you released that guilt you’re carrying around like a festering wound.”
“Only fixing what was broken will redeem my worth, Omri. I have failed you, and that is the worst offence my kind can garner.”
“You did what was asked of you, for better or worse. The burden of the outcome is not upon you, K’haram. We all failed Imiryion, but we were given a second chance.”
“Mmm,” his grave voice rumbles through my head. “I shall not squander this opportunity, my Omri. I vow to you this.”
Killian’s gentle grasp on my waist pulls me out of my mind, and I feel the connection fading as I tell my dragon to wait for us to return to the castle. Preparations are due for the humans’ arrival in Wrahta, and we can’t lose any more time.
“Where did you go, umbra?” Killian asks, adjusting my leathers to keep the frigid air from seeping into my bones. Without the discarded cape, the blizzard’s bite threatens to engulf me in numbness.
“Spoke to K’haram.”
“You know, I’m almost jealous of the lizard for having conversations with you I’m not privy to,” he chuckles wholeheartedly.
“Killian!” I admonish him, but I can’t help the smile forming on my lips.
“It’s good to see some things never change, even after millennia,” Ereshkygall chimes in, amused by our exchange.
“Shall we, ladies?” Killian asks, extending his hands for us to grab.
I lace my fingers with his, just as Ereshkigal places her hand in his, and the shadows swirl around instantly.
The winter hellscape melts away in a blanket of comforting darkness, and we emerge in Killian’s study, a fire crackling in the hearth.
Ereshkygall steps into the center of the room, drinking it in slowly with her eyes, cataloging the rows upon rows of ancient tomes, the heavy cherry wood desk, and the paintings hanging on the walls. She does not say a word, but observes everything with the keen eye of a historian.
Killian’s double forms from the twirling shadows, awaiting his commands.
“Go find Blaise with haste. Bring him here, and the Fae female.”
Shadow Killian nods, and he disintegrates and vanishes through the crack between the door and the floor. As he leaves, my own shadows jump from my skin, chasing to join him.
“Why do I feel our shadows will find the first dark corner to fuck each other into oblivion?”
“I’m sure they will, little umbra,” Killian snickers. “Hopefully, after they convey my message to Blaise.”
“Truly, some things remain the same,” Ereshkygall whispers under her breath, shaking her head in pretend vexation.
“Our shadows, were they acting like this before too?” I ask, curious to find out more about our previous selves.
“Let’s just say there was not one single member of the inner circle that hadn’t stumbled upon your doubles lost in the throes of passion on at least one occasion.”
My cheeks redden in mortification even though I don’t remember any of these so-called inner circle members.
“So, wait a minute here. You’re telling me you’re Akaori and Aeon’s reincarnations?” Blaise asks in bewilderment. His gaze keeps jumping from me to Killian, to Ereshkygall and back.
“You are Aeon,” he says, pointing a finger my way before turning it toward Killian. “And you’re Akaori?”
We nod, and his ensuing laughter booms through the chamber, ricocheting off the stone walls. Next to him, Sariah’s expression is guarded, and there is not even an ounce of shock in her pale-blue eyes.
She knew. The realization hits me harder than expected, but I don’t get the chance to voice my suspicions, as Blaise recovers from his fit of laughter, needling Killian further.
“Should I start calling you sister instead?” he asks, and I swear Killian’s temple throbs in annoyance. “Tell me, who wears the…”
“Blaise, I swear to myself that if that sentence ends in pants and relationship, I will tear your tongue from your stupid mouth and feed it to the vermin crawling the crypts,” Killian seethes, baring his fangs.
That shuts him up as he deflates, moving his mirthful gaze from us to Ereshkygall.
“And you’re not really a Goddess, but the second vampire ever created?”
Ereshkygall only nods, not having spoken much since Blaise and Sariah entered the room. She keeps studying them, as she was doing with the room earlier, humming softly to herself, as if she’s pondering something.
“Pity,” Blaise chortles, “I was looking forward to meeting a deity. Had some questions about the meaning of life and whatnot.”
“I was half expecting you to aim at flirting your way into a Goddess’ undergarments,” I say, only half joking.
“Oh no, I already crossed that off my goblet list,” he answers with a knowing smirk, throwing a glance at Sariah, and she immediately reacts, swatting him over the head.
“Ouch. I guess I deserved that.”
My eyes widen in realization, and I’m itching to get Sariah alone and make her spill the truth. Did she succumb to a certain rake’s charm that she swore she would never fall for just days prior?
“It’s an honor to meet you, Ereshkygall,” Sariah says solemnly, changing the subject.
“The honor’s all mine, Sariah of the Haelstrom bloodline.”
“Haelstrom?” I ask at the same time as Blaise.
“My great-great-grandfather’s name,” she answers.
“I knew him. Nem,” Ereshkygall says, her eyes glazing with that faraway sheen that she gets when speaking of the past. “Such loyal fighters, both he and Illaria. Swore their lives in blood to protect my secrets.”
“Five generations of my family have done so,” Sariah answers. “The Order carried your legacy, awaiting the awakening of the prophesied savior, recruiting believers who would fight on the right side of history in the upcoming war. In the name of Akaori and Aeon.”
“So you indeed knew,” I murmur.
I don’t even know why I’m surprised at this point. Of course she would know, as the leader of the Order entrusted to prepare for our rebirth. It seems we were the only ones left in the dark.
“We knew the meaning of the prophecy, yes, my brother and I. It was our sole mission, to ensure it came to fruition.”
“And nobody thought to enlighten me in one thousand years?” Killian snaps next to me, his fists clenching. “Could have saved this realm a world of suffering, don’t you think?”
“They couldn’t have, Ri,” Ereshkygall answers calmly, making Killian flinch at the nickname. “For this to work, you two needed to love each other in this lifetime too. Not because you knew, but despite not knowing.”
“Fucking depths of hell,” he mutters before storming out of the room, the door rattling on its hinges in his wake.
“Don’t mind him,” Blaise says, breaking the ensuing silence. “He tends to be overly dramatic in his displeasure.”
I have half a mind to follow him, and as Ereshkygall asks about the Order and Sariah throws herself into an excited tirade about the Dark Umbras and their extensive network of spies, I slip from the chamber quietly, searching for Killian.
My steps carry me on instinct toward his bedroom, as if by an invisible tether that allows me to sense his whereabouts.
He’s sulking on the massive bed draped in black silk, a goblet of bloodwine dangling from his fingertips, his hair disheveled from his constant pulling at the roots.
“This tastes like utter shit,” he says, flinging the goblet and spilling the crimson liquid on the plush carpet at his feet.
“Then drink from me, my love.”
I bring my wrist to his lips, straddling his hips and resting my forehead against his own. “I’m here, Killian. I’ve got you.”
His fangs sink into my vein without a second thought, his possessive growl reverberating through my chest as he feasts on me. A wave of euphoria washes over me, gone way too soon as he removes his canines and licks the wound closed.
We stay like that for a heartbeat or two, lost in each other and our own tumultuous thoughts.
“I wish I wouldn’t understand her reasoning, Aimee,” he finally says. “Then I could cling just a bit longer to my rage, for all the lives that were lost.”
“Cling to it anyway, Killian. That rage is the fuel we need to face what’s coming our way. You’re entitled to it. Just aim it at the real perpetrator here. My fucking sister.”
“I can’t help feeling unworthy of the shoes I’m suddenly filling. To be her. To fulfill her destiny.”
“There’s not one soul that would be more worthy than you, Killian,” I say earnestly, pressing a ghost of a kiss to his lips.
“Whatever have I done, little umbra, to deserve you?” he whispers against my throat, his chilled breath raising goosebumps on my flesh.
“In this life, plenty. In our previous? I’m sure Ereshkygall can reminisce about it if we ask.”
He chuckles, moving slightly to brand me with his onyx gaze, a bottomless darkness that used to terrify me, but now warms me up inside with the endless love swimming in its sable depths.
“I love you, Aimee. In this lifetime. In the previous. In the next thousand ones. It’s the only certainty I have in a reality that is falling around us like a deck of flimsy cards.”
His mouth is upon me in the next breath, his fangs piercing my neck, and I close my eyes in rapture, willing time to stop and give us just this moment of reprieve.