Chapter 24 Bleed
BLEED
Marina
A landscape of abyssal cosmos surrounded Marina.
The boundless sheet of black sand expanded as far as her eyes could reach.
Sculpted, ghostly knolls glittered under a churning sky.
Its clouds looked as if they were made of thinly shattered glass slowly whorling the nucleus of the isle.
The motion was slow, calm, without the faintest whisper of a breeze.
“This realm is the most distilled Chaos of Tavora.” Acacius peered up at the broken stars spiraling in the sky. “Long ago, this is the place where I first manifested my Daemons. They remain contained here unless I command them otherwise.”
Marina glanced around at the sloped, barren landscape. “Where are they?”
Acacius swiped his hand across the air, and an indigo breach opened like a knife to fresh skin, coagulating a chasmic darkness from the slit. “They like to hide in the folds.”
The slash grew, and sharp, rotted talons gripped the edges of the hollow.
A grisly creature stepped out onto the terrain. Its low clicking vibrated from its throat as it crawled to her.
Marina’s heart palpitated, her body stiffening in preparation to defend herself.
“It’s not going to hurt you,” Acacius assured her.
The beast lingered in her space, sniffing her through the jagged split of the cervid skull acting as its face. It was memorizing her scent the way a predator did, but she didn’t feel threatened by it.
Up this close, she could see grooves and cracks in the ashen bone of its mask, marks of its preserved life throughout the centuries.
Swirled engravings decorated the base of one of its smaller antlers.
The biggest horn was wide and ribbed with claws that jutted out, like the start of a budding tree.
Underneath the fur of its shoulders were a savage set of spikes, ready to gore Acacius’s enemies.
Its antlers tilted as it cocked its head, like a curious bird.
Marina took the gesture as an invitation and lifted her hand.
It dipped its head, allowing her to place her palm on the coarse top of the skull. “It’s beautiful this close,” she breathed out.
The clicking fluttered at a low, calm tempo, satisfied by the attention Marina gave it.
“I showed Ruelle their form once,” Acacius murmured, his tone not as terse as it typically was when speaking of her. “She found them to be hideous. Said they were macabre creatures that belonged in cages.”
“Then mine belong in a far more hellish place than a cage.” Marina dropped her arm and looked over at him. His golden gaze beamed in a place so devoid of light as he stared at his creature the way a proud parent would.
“Is this what you saw?” He met her eyes, his brow creasing the way it did when he was serious.
“Yes, but the clicking noise… Do they all make this sound?”
He nodded, crossing his arms. “Though I don’t think this detail is common knowledge. Those who hear it end up as meat in their teeth. Why?”
The Daemon lightly nudged her arm with the slick of its antler as it crouched, the holes of its skull staring up at her as if to beg for more affection.
Her heart tugged at its strange cuteness, and she gave it another pat. “The one I saw didn’t make the clicking sound.”
“Then I can assure you that whatever you saw was not sent from me.”
The Daemon turned and sauntered off to Marina’s side, drawing shapes in the sand with its claws.
She ran her fingers through her hair, squeezing at the roots. “But if the creature I stood before was not a Daemon, then what the fuck was it?”
He shrugged. “Gods possess all sorts of monsters.”
Whatever she saw on the rooftop was nearly a perfect replica of a Daemon, but the easing in her gut told her that Acacius was not a liar. He had no reason to be, and she’d never known the High God to be anything but annoyingly transparent with his masochistic motives and impulsive feelings.
Which meant the creature in Hollow City still lurked the streets, and now it was without the reins of her lover, massacring the innocent.
“Do you believe me now?”
Acacius’s words snapped her out of her thoughts, and she inclined her head, gazing up at him. “I showed up here because I didn’t believe you’d sent the Daemon to Hollow City in the first place.”
She expected a playful remark out of him, but his expression remained somber, his eyes flitting back and forth across her face.
After a moment, he said, “You were right.”
“About?”
Acacius unfolded his arms, shifting his body to her. “About my grievances with Ruelle. Blaming you was easier than reflecting on how ignorant I’d been, all for a goddess who did not want me. I was simply tired of walking through life alone, as is the curse of my title.”
She made no move toward him. Though, with each small step he took, her heartbeat fluttered with anticipation.
Marina looked down at the wisps of sand that bloomed around Acacius’s feet. “Ruelle seemed to only like bright, shiny things.”
His fiery eyes dimmed in melancholy. “And I am the most lusterless of all.”
She caressed his pain, looking up and staring deeply into his gaze. “I suppose it’s good that I cherish the darkness, then.”
Acacius stopped at her side. A cloud of pine and black pepper graced her nose, and her senses tingled with elation, not realizing how much she’d missed his smell when she’d hardly given it much attention before.
He grabbed her hand. “I took my frustrations out on you, Marina, and for that, I apologize.”
She watched him draw slow circles over her knuckles with his thumb and gave a half-smile back. “I knew it was never really about me.”
Acacius slowed the movement of his hand.
“I’ve spent my entire life listening to the gospel of Death and Life from Cassian and Iliana.
” He moved in closer until his chest rested against her arm.
“They both believe the origin of happiness lies in peace, a thing I have detested all my life. But I was desperate to experience what they spoke of.”
Marina looked up at him, incredibly aware of his body’s heat curling around her. “Did you ever find it?”
“In Ruelle.”
Marina squared her jaw and looked away, despising the bitter sting in her chest. “What is the point of you telling me this?”
“It was suffocating, Rina.” He took her chin in between his thumb and index finger and brought his lips closer to hers. “Ruelle was my peace, but you?” He smirked, shaking his head. “You are my chaos.” His hand stretched over her jaw and ran down the front of her neck, securing a light grasp.
From their last encounter to now, he’d invaded her mind and haunted her skin.
Small things reminded her of him—the berries between the cake that Naia devoured, an array of moths circling the streetlights of the city, the snowfall that made her wonder if Acacius preferred winter over autumn the way she did.
Now here he was, telling her everything she wanted to hear from him. It felt like a dream, one she was hesitant to indulge in.
She dipped her head back to rest on his chest, warmth unspooling behind her ribcage. “I still plan on protecting Ash.”
“I know.”
“And Naia, and the family she has made.”
He pushed his thumb into the sides of her throat, against her quaking pulse. “Rina, I do not intend on standing against you, or your kin.”
A warm euphoria blossomed in her stomach, and her lips fought against the urge to lift into a broad smile.
But to let herself feel such happiness felt foolish—too good to be true.
She swallowed, the motion of her throat straining against his hold. “Why?”
He brought his mouth to her ear. “Because I want whatever this is between us to continue. You challenge me, excite me, elicit such wicked, depraved thoughts in me. I crave you in every form. Your darkness serenades mine, and I do not think I have the control to pretend otherwise any longer.”
“Then don’t.”
Without another thought, she grabbed him by the collar, hauled herself up on her toes, and crashed her lips into his.
Not once had she cataloged the details that came with kissing Acacius, but something had changed.
He no longer blamed her for Ruelle’s death, and he’d decided not to oppose her, Ash, and Naia any longer.
It felt as if some of the weight of their past had lifted, freeing up space for them to move to a new dawn.
She kissed him deeply, gripping the sides of his face and swallowing his breath.
His hands curled around her waist, pulling her snugly into his chest. An exhale left his nose as he slipped his tongue in between her lips. Desire sparked to life in her bloodstream, a river pulsing in her veins to chase the liquid pleasure running through her.
Ash.
The internal reminder was like the snapping of a safety wire.
She pulled away, her breath heavy. “There are monsters hunting Ash as we speak. I must return.”
Acacius’s lips were pink and swollen as his eyes swept over her face, analyzing the concern that pinched her brow. “Stay with me for a bit longer, and we will go investigate during nightfall.”
She rested her forehead against his, warring with herself. “What if something happens while I am here?”
Acacius kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve already sent my Heralds back to the city.” Over her cheek. “They will watch from afar to avoid spreading the echoes of my Ruin, but I can at least use them as my eyes.” Up her temple. “If they find or see anything alarming, they will inform me right away.”
His assurance eased the tension in her chest, and her voice of reason kicked in. The child had Ronin and Naia and the Blood Heretics. Soren was somewhere in the shadows, watching as well. Ash would be okay. For now, she could savor this moment with Acacius.
“Fine.” She relented, leaning into his kisses down her jaw. “But only until nightfall.”
He drew in a breath through his nose, and her equilibrium shook.
She opened her eyes and looked around. They were no longer in the dark desert, but a room instead.