Chapter 34
Chapter thirty-four
My fear is a physical thing, acidic both in the air and in my veins, as the malignant void races toward Niko, the same as it had with Sam—intent on devouring every piece of him until there is nothing left.
But my shadow does not slice Niko’s skin.
It doesn’t touch him it at all.
Because his ribbons rise between us, their icy silk writhing like sentient armor. My shadow that had been so untenable, so horrible, that it slashed straight through Sam, and felled so many others—disappears entirely into the void of Niko’s death.
His eyes roll shut, a deep moan escaping him as his body arches against mine, undulating in the same manner as his ribbons. As they absorb every bit of my darkness, it seems as though Niko does, too.
I blink rapidly, studying the flutter of his lashes, the wicked curve of his mouth. A ball of emotion forms in my throat as a foreign lightness spreads through me, pure and unencumbered. For an absurd moment, I don’t know whether to sob or laugh or collapse to the ground.
I only know I’ve been existing beneath the weight of the world; crawling and scraping beneath an indelible sky, trapped without air. And as Niko inhales the last of my shadows, I can breathe for the first time since I anchored myself to Letum.
His body tightens and his ribbons give one last great shudder. Fear spikes through me that he has ruined himself for me—that he has tithed another irrevocable piece.
“Niko,” I whisper, his name soft and ragged with everything unspoken between us.
When he opens his eyes, a wet sob bursts from my throat like a maelstrom of emotion has been set loose between my lips. Because his gaze is the same as it always is—possessive, cruel, clever. My shadow did not ruin him—I have not ruined him.
Niko swipes a tear away from my cheek with his thumb. They come freely now, like everything I’ve pushed down over the past year has come pouring out.
“How did you know?” My words are thick, choked by emotion. “How did you know you wouldn’t be hurt?”
Niko gathers my hair at the nape of my neck, running his other hand over my bare shoulders and dipping beneath the sheet to trace the curve of my spine. Like now that he’s begun touching me, he can’t bring himself to stop.
“I didn’t,” he admits. “Not for sure, at least. But after a talk with a siren, and an interaction with Peter’s magic, I had a theory.”
I hit him in the arm, but it is half-hearted at best. “How could you do that?” I demand, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand. “How could you take that risk?”
He doesn’t answer. Only grins and grabs my wrist before I can hit him again, using it to pull me so tightly against him, one wrong move will have the sheet dropping to the floor.
“Love me or hate me if you must, Darling,” His words are hardly more than a susurrus against my skin. “My death has been yours since the beginning. And it will eternally be yours to use as you need.”
Eternally.
The word dissipates the cool calm, scattering my thoughts once more. After everything, he still implicitly trusts me not to hurt him. And in a way, hadn’t I done the same when I’d crawled to him at my weakest moment?
He’d lain himself down in front of my shadows, and I’d given up everything to bring him back to life.
All we’ve ever done is give up pieces for one another, and it has never been enough.
I grip the sheet tighter, pushing away from him.
Niko’s arms fall away, even as his gaze locks with mine so intently, I understand that him letting me go doesn’t mean he’s allowing me to escape.
Sudden fury rises in my chest, one that has nothing to do with my shadow.
It is borne of the scars on my heart. Scars put there by Niko—scars carved by my own hand.
By my fear and rage. By my love and loyalty.
“How can you say that to me?” I breathe the demand as if I’m breathing fire.
But Niko is death, and death does not cower from flame. He only plants his feet wider and stares me down, like he’s readying himself for battle.
“How can you offer up eternity when the last time you did, you left me? You left just like every other person who’s ever loved me!”
To Niko’s credit, he doesn’t flinch back from my sudden anger. He only lowers his chin, bracing against what comes next.
“How can you even want it when all I have ever done is push you away and hurt you? For fuck’s sake, Niko…you told me you loved me, and I banished you to a prison world with your worst enemy!”
I shake my head, wishing the tears would end. Wishing it all would end before Niko finds out what I’ve done to Sam; before he sees me for the monster I truly am, and I have to watch as the way he looks at me changes forever.
“I knew you were cruel, but this…this is the worst thing you’ve done. How dare you offer me hope of something neither of us has the capacity to give?”
The words pour from me like a wave, every hateful thing I’ve thought in my loneliest moments crashing down around us both.
It is a familiar habit—to hurt something before it can hurt me—one buried far deeper than my shadow.
I know this, and still can’t seem to stop myself from uttering the words I know will devastate him.
“I killed Sam.” A sword of truth to slice through whatever tether remains between us.
Niko goes deathly still.
“I—I killed him. I knew what he meant to you, I knew what he meant to Adira…And I ruined him.” I raise my chin, my lower lip trembling. “Do you still want to offer me eternity?”
I brace myself for Niko’s rage—he’s never reacted well to things being stolen from him. But he remains still, his expression unreadable. “No. You didn’t.”
My fear snaps like a fiery whip, and I hate him for trying to see through my horror like there is something redeemable living alongside my shadows.
“Yes, I did,” I snarl. “I slashed straight through his skin, and left him bleeding on the floor. I ran, Niko, just like the coward I’ve always been.
And then I let you comfort me, knowing I’d taken him from you. ”
Niko bursts into motion, his death spiraling from him as he charges toward me.
His face is cut in lethal lines as he leans in toward me.
“Do you truly think I would just sit on my ass, simpering over the state of things, when Letum is threatened?” His voice is terrifyingly calm.
“Do you really think you could appear on my doorstep…injured and bleeding and fucking terrified…and I wouldn’t track down whoever fucking hurt you? ”
“I hurt myself!” I shout.
Niko lets out a humorless laugh and drags his fingers through his hair.
“You’re capable of a lot of things, Willa…
but stabbing yourself through the abdomen requires a feat of strength even you don’t possess.
I saw the spear wound. I siphoned the poison out and cleaned you up.
And after I was sure you were safe, I had Marina come sit with you while I went to find out what the fuck happened. ”
I stare at him.
“Sam is not dead,” he says again, each syllable slow and punctuated.
I suffocate the small bead of hope his words elicit, shoving it down into the recesses of myself. For even if he speaks the truth, it changes nothing.
“What about the others?” I hiss. “You left your kingdom for me to protect, and all I’ve done is destroy it. I killed their dreams, and stole their lives. All to feed my own selfish darkness.”
Niko’s death slithers up around his throat. “As I said before, Darling…that darkness is not yours. Those deaths are not yours to claim. The island has been siphoning your humanity from you every time you’ve mingled your magic. That shadow is not of your making, and neither are its actions.”
It should be a relief, but instead, a scream traps itself in my throat and I nearly choke on my own fury.
And perhaps it isn’t fury at all, but the same seed of fear that is at the root of all of my rage.
Fear of what it means for the Carrion King to see to my depths and not turn away.
Fear of giving him that power over me when I’d nearly been destroyed by it once before.
“I suppose you think me exiling you was also done by the shadow?”
Niko eyes flash with cold rage, and I know I’ve found the one thing he will not be able to reconcile away.
“It had nothing to do with magic or shadows or the fucking universe. That was all me, Niko. I sent you away and I thought it was forever and I wasn’t even sorry for it. I don’t think I can ever be sorry for it.”
He cocks his head, his eyes narrowing to near slits. “Is that what you think I want from you? An apology?” The word is a disbelieving laugh. “I don’t need a fucking apology, Willa.”
I open my mouth to snipe back, but he closes the distance between us in to cradle my face between his hands. And by the star, I should be ashamed of how much I want to lean into the decadence of his touch—of how quickly it unravels my fury and my fear into something far more dangerous.
Hope.
“Did I not just tell you I can take all of you? I know you, down to the shadows of your heart and the shape of your bones. Since the moment you dropped into my life, I have seen every piece.” His eyes devour the sunlight streaming in through the bay windows, his ribbons untethered and wild.
“I fucking love you, Willa. Every part of you…the pieces you deem too shameful, the ones you deem too weak…and the things you think too much. Do you understand me? What that means?”
He cuts himself off with a curse of frustration, his ribbons writhing wildly in the air around his head.
Sucking in a sharp breath, he tries again, softer.
“I am a lot of things…a murderer, a mutineer, a schemer, a thief. But I am not a liar. I would not claim to love all of you, and then demand an apology for being exactly who you are. What kind of man would I be to claim I love your rage, your violence…and then turn around and shame you for the very same thing?”