Chapter 71
“I wish to have your soul…and I…Elara Cordelia Briartide, Princess of Ilma, pledge my soul to you, Aegir Hailin. My soul is yours.” He did not need to utter a single word for me to know that our souls had indeed converged.
The tumultuous wave of ethereal appeasement, followed by a dreamlike sensation of grounding calmness was answer enough.
If his eyes widened at the mutual sensation or at the mention of the name I now remembered was mine, I did not know. What I knew was that his gaze turned starving, and he seemed to have lost himself in me. Deep and hard.
Aegir moved his hand along my side, clutching my hip, my thigh, then hooked the back of my knee with his arm. I drew in a sharp breath as my palms and knees hit the floor.
He came near, grabbing me from the length of my hair while crossing his other arm over my chest, my necklace trapped in between his palm and my breastbone.
He pulled me close, my back now flush against his chest, and he rasped next to my ear, “This is exactly how I wanted to take you when I watched you from behind the curtain. You drove me out of my mind.”
My words came in between ragged breaths. “I would have let you.”
My reply must have done something to him as his throat rumbled. He moved his mouth to my neck, his tender lips exploring its unmarred side. My spine shivered at the tips of his canines grazing my sensitive skin.
I lifted an arm, grabbed him from the back of his head—my fingers tangled in his hair—and I nudged him just that little bit closer.
Another silent invitation. My skin prickled as he pierced my neck.
He let out a rumbling groan from his throat and a long exhale from his nose that fanned against my shoulder.
I pursed my lips together, biting their insides so hard, warm blood coated my tongue.
I whimpered softly, my moans muffled. He unlatched my neck and I looked back.
We watched, then tasted our red-painted lips. A kiss that healed, blood without pain.
“Let me see you,” he whispered, turning me around so that I straddled him. And when I looked into his forest eyes, I knew that he saw all of me now. He felt all of me, too. As I did him.
When we were both undone, breaths heavy and heated, he wrapped his arms around me and held me tight.
He pressed small kisses on my crown while I nuzzled my face into his chest. I sank into him, letting out a soft sigh before completely letting go, a freeing sensation liberating every cell of my body.
My skin hummed with what felt like a thousand little spikes, which I then sensed crawling along my limbs, coalescing, until they settled deep within my core.
And then it rained.
Tiny beads of water gracefully plummeted onto our skin, around us, like a rushing cascade that reverberated in a delicate symphony throughout the room. Then silence. I wondered if I had mistaken a roofless ceiling for glass, and so I looked up.
No, I hadn’t imagined it. The glass ceiling was very much there.
It was poetic, really—as soon as it stopped raining indoors, the ashen clouds smothering the sky above us finally surrendered, unleashing a downpour that drummed rhythmically against the glass skylight.
And then I lowered my head to meet Aegir’s gaze, and he smiled at me, a genuine smile that met his eyes.
He let out a soft chuckle and caressed my cheek before leaning in for a long and languid kiss.
He held me close. “I missed you,” he whispered against my ear. Then he took the deepest breath, as if he was smelling a bouquet of fresh hyacinth. “Boreas, your smell…mmm.”
I giggled. “I missed you, too.” Then I moved my palms to his face and searched his eyes. “Do you feel different?” I asked, my voice low.
“I feel whole.”
“Me too.” My lips pursed. “Your immortality?” I whispered.
“I don’t know.” He pressed a small kiss on my forehead. “Don’t worry about that. I made my choice and I would do the same again.”
I didn’t know it was physically possible to feel this amount of love in just one moment in time.
Aegir slid us back into the bath, into the water that now only reached up to his knees. I realised then that the rest of it was flooding the floors, wetting the furniture.
He sat us on one of the lower steps, then laid me into the water before him, my head resting on his lap. He grazed his thumb along my jaw and down to my freshly bitten skin. It no longer stung, but when I reached for my neck, I could still feel the twin scars against my fingertips.
Whispered words left me. “You were never going to remove it, were you?”
“I had only meant to heal it, not take it away.” My eyes stung.
He reached for one of the many glass vials and poured its liquid contents onto his palm. The smell of lavender and jasmine lingered around us as he gently washed my hair. Then he asked softly, “Did you know that Cordelia means daughter of the sea?”
I eased open my eyes. “For over ten years, I thought it only meant heart, but now, now I remember the intended meaning, yes.”
“I want to hear about everything. I want you to tell me how you felt, what you felt, when you could not remember, and now that you do. I want to know how all of this is possible. I wish that I had been worthy of you, that you had opened up to me, shared your burden with me. Will you tell me now?”
“I—I really wanted to tell you. I was going to tell you that day—I want to tell you still. I don’t know where to begin.”
“Do you want to go to b—” My stomach growled so loud, he stopped midsentence. “Are you hungry?”
“Very much.”
“Wait here. I’ll go get us some food, and then we can talk for as long as you’d like.”
I nodded. “And check on Marshen, will you?”
“Of course.”
My soul frowned at his absence. I reassured it and myself that he would soon be back. I went to grab another vial of soap and washed myself. Then remained hovering, floating in the middle of the bath.
I remembered.
I remembered who they were.
I remembered who I was.
The daughter of a Water Nymph, my beautiful mother, the Queen of Ilma, and the daughter of a Water Wielder, my father, the King of Ilma.
Was Marshen right? Did I indeed inherit my father’s gifts?
Was I truly the cause of the delicate rain?
My core thrummed and throbbed as if in answer.
But when I lifted my hand, ordering the water to move at my command, it remained still.
And another question remained. How could I have possibly wielded when the connection with the moonstone was severed?
My mother had told me that it was the source of our powers, that it acted as a mediator between us and our goddess, Thalassa. But then I realised that my power could have perhaps been fuelled by my mother’s necklace. My necklace, a piece of Thalassa’s moonstone itself, which now shone blue.
Then I wondered if I was also like my mother.
Will I shift into a Water Nymph if I try to drown myself? Am I immortal? Are we immortal?
My mother had told me about the Confirmation. That I would partake in it once I came of age. I shifted my arm and turned myself around, my face now immersed in the shallow water. I held my breath and for some reason started counting.
I felt Aegir’s approach and shot to my feet, wiping my dripping face. He entered the bathing room and knelt near the landing, “Cordelia, my brother wants to proceed with Marshen’s execution.”
“Take me to him. I want to speak to him.”
“Here, eat something while I go find you something to wear.”