Chapter Twenty-Three #2
It’s the perfect complimenting contrast to the ring he’s gifted me.
Placing my left hand beside the box, my ribs tighten.
The reality of the situation slams into me, into my heart, making itself a very real and imminent thing. It’s no longer some far off concept talked about in brief anticipation.
This is happening.
It’s happening because I’ve chosen it.
With this, Ryc and I will be married.
No barter.
No contract.
Nothing forced.
Everything chosen.
Were the hells to learn I left them for this… they’d never understand. How could they? Demons don’t love.
“Little love,” Ryc’s voice unfurls in my mind.
Startled, my fingers fumble, snapping the box shut.
“How goes today’s lesson?”
I turn my gaze to Lilith’s empty seat.
“It’s been… illuminating,” I reply.
His amusement curls through our bond. “When you’re finished, I’d like to see you.”
Shoving the box back into my boot, I stand from my seat. “Yes, I’d like that too. We’re finishing up now. Find me in the arboretum.”
?????????????
The decadent scent of smoky saffron reaches me long before Ryc does thanks to the spelled warm breeze pulling through the trees. It sets my heart racing.
Leaning against the stone railing of the small footbridge, I peer past the box in my hands to the waters below. Several shiny-scaled fish circle under me—shimmering shades of blue, orange, purple, and red waver across the water’s surface.
The pull in my chest grows taut and straightening myself, I find Ryc stepping onto the bridge. His eyes lock with mine as I turn.
“How are you feeling?” he asks quietly.
Birds chirp and sing in the trees above as he waits for my answer.
“Fine,” I answer, but my regret is instant. I shake my head. “No. Not fine. Worried.”
His brows crease as he approaches.
“Have you met with the council?” I ask.
“I have,” he answers with a slow nod. “And they’re not going to permit us entry to Illa Ysari. Not before we ascend.”
He stops before me, leaning a hip against the railing. The disappointment on his face clear.
“Even with Rowen?”
“Even with Rowen, Fenryn, and Darin, it wasn’t enough,” he says, his chest rising with a deep inhale. “So, I’m working on other arrangements.”
“Other arrangements?” I repeat, both confused and concerned.
“We’ll get to Illa Ysari,” he says, countering my confused expression with a handsome smile. “But I have to wait for a few things to fall into place, which will take a day or two at most. After that, we’ll find what we need in those archives.”
The unwavering resolution of his words strike me in the chest and I scoff a laugh.
“You’re willing to go against the council?”
Cupping my face in his gentle grasp, he answers. “Without question. They’re using what little leverage they have in urging us to ascend sooner. I said Ashdown. I meant it. Not a moment sooner. They’ve taken enough time from you.”
I don’t doubt him.
Or his words.
“And if we’re caught?” I ask, leaning into his touch, savoring the closeness and warmth.
Ryc smirks. “I didn’t think a bit of rebellion bothered you,” he teases.
It doesn’t.
When I’m the only one at risk of losing.
He chuckles as if he can hear my thoughts. “Do you honestly believe the council is going to imprison those they want upon the High Throne?”
No.
No, they’re not.
“A few days then,” I relent with a long sigh. “Then we find answers.”
He nods.
A lot can change in a few days’ time.
Drawing me close by my waist, he catches sight of the box in my hands.
“What’s this?” he asks, lifting his gaze to mine.
Turning over my palm, I unfurl my fingers, revealing the hellfire obsidian box.
“Your gift of silver,” I say, my heart pounding in my throat. “I want to give it to you, but…”
His face pinches with concern.
“But?” he asks.
“You deserve better,” I reply and he laughs, surprising me.
“I shall be the one to determine what I deserve,” he counters, smiling.
“Bond aside, you’re what I want.” He brushes some of my hair over my shoulder, away from my face before returning his eyes to mine.
“My sarcastic little demon who scowls more than smiles. You’ve seen so much hate and horror, yet you’re still capable of staring at the stars in awe.
You still see the often hidden and overlooked magic of the universe.
And, despite everything… you’re still brave enough to give me your heart. ”
He presses a tender kiss to my brow as I struggle to find my voice.
“I am not bright and shining and goodness as you make it sound,” I say, the sharp sting of tears growing. “I am selfish, demanding, impulsive. I am all the things your mate shouldn’t be.”
Laying my emotions bare has never been easy. Not for me nor any demon. Doing so leads to a rather vicious downfall in the hells. No demon would dare arm another with sharpened weapons designed to seek the heart.
Regardless, I’ve tried. I’ve tried to share my innermost thoughts and feelings with Ryc at the very least. He deserves that.
“And now I stand to change,” I say as Lilith’s earlier unintended point drives itself into the forefront of my mind.
His brows crease as he draws back a short distance. “What do you mean?” Heavy concern laces his tone.
I hesitate.
“The crystal,” I finally say after a long moment of silence.
“If she is me, I do not know her. I do not know how long we’ve been separated.
But I do know it was her anger, her demanding rage I felt when I grazed the crystal.
And these veilflowers… they’re not me. Yesterday proves that. They’re her.”
She has to be why I cannot control this innate.
I’ve been severed from the ability.
Ryc studies my face, his eyes searching mine. “I look forward to learning who you truly are, little love.”
“And if I’m worse?”
He laughs. “Impossible.” He leans close, brushing his nose against mine. “I think you hold the reins too tightly to ever let that happen.”
My flat glare has him laughing again.
“If you’re trying to scare me off,” he says, his embrace growing tighter—gods, the way I could curl into his warmth and never leave is pure nonsense—“You’ll need to try harder.” He flashes a dazzling smile.
I scoff a dry, bitter laugh and push at his chest, but his arms keep me locked firmly against him.
There’s yet another truth.
Perhaps one he doesn’t quite realize.
Like all gifts from demons, my heart comes with strings. I can’t give him his gift without being explicit. He deserves to know.
“Then let me warn you, nyraphim,” I say, my voice low. “Should you accept this gift, know I will tear your heart out before I let you shatter mine.”
Lifting a hand, he tilts my face as he lowers his lips to mine, brushing them ever so lightly.
“I expect no less,” he murmurs, teasing a flutter of a kiss upon the corner of my mouth. The urge to claim his lips and taste his tongue sears through my veins. “Hearts are fragile things.”
He flattens a palm on the center of my chest. Beneath the flesh and bone my heart beats in a slow, steady rhythm, calmed by his presence, by his touch.
“Mine lies here,” he says, lifting his gilded gaze to meet my stare. “Should it shatter, should it cease, it will be because you deem it. I gave you the power to destroy me long ago, little love.”
“You damn fool,” I say, my voice breaking. “You hang your heart upon a demon.”
“My demon,” he corrects, and I laugh despite my tears. “Now, show me,” he encourages, clasping my hands and the ring box between his.
With a deep breath, I nod and open the box.
If this is what he chooses, so be it.
He was warned.
His golden eyes fall to our hands and grow wide.
“You went to Gladir,” he says.
“Fate,” I laugh weakly. “I didn’t know until I asked him to forge it.”
Ryc’s eyes narrow as he studies the ring. Blue-silver shimmers across the surface of the silver.
“Spelled?” he asks.
“I won’t lie,” I say, the sound of the words surprising me. “It was forged using the necklace Celesta left me. Without it I would have never escaped the hells.”
The expression upon Ryc’s face softens. “It brought you to me.”
“Yes,” I say, pulling the ring from the box and setting the box aside.
“I accept your gift, Vestaris Moonshadow,” he says without hesitation.
Before I can speak, he slips his finger through the band, not taking his eyes from mine. The sight of the ring upon his hand sends elation searing through my blood.
“Centuries of wait.” He gives me a teasing grin. “Centuries of dreaming. I’m never letting you go again.”
Before I can blink, Ryc lifts me against him and my legs wrap around his waist as my hands pull his lips to mine. It’s nothing gentle. It’s teeth and tongues and a fervent demand. The taste of him leaves me drunk and yet I continue to drink.
As I curl my fingers into his silken hair, the all too delicious sensation of him moving between my thighs winds my stomach tight. With a moan, I press myself into him, needing no space to exist between us.
Where he ends, I should begin.
We should be blurred.
His low groan tells me he feels the same.
Before long, he lowers me, my back meeting the spongy pad of thick moss.
Dragging his teeth and tongue along my neck, his fingers tear at the neckline of my shirt.
In seconds it’s less of a shirt and more of a band of ribbons as he tosses it aside.
Laughing, I press my hand to his chest, halting him.
Lifting his head from my neck, his darkened gaze rises from my lips to my eyes. He’s going to devour me and I won’t be able to stop him.
Gods, I don’t want him to stop. But…
“Here?” I laugh glancing toward the path he’s wandered from. “Where we could be seen?”
We’re barely five feet off the footpath, in a small clearing between trees. Anyone daring to walk through here will certainly discover a show.
A wicked grin curls his kiss-swollen lips as he lowers himself, dragging his kiss along my jaw. He nips at my neck and my eyes flutter closed. The feel of his breath, his teeth, his touch, sends elated darts of pleasure down my spine.