Chapter 30 #2
Alistair agrees, and I duck into the guest room to grab a change of clothes and my toothbrush. When I get back to Celine’s room, the bathroom door is standing open, steam drifting out.
I walk inside, shut the door behind me, then curse silently. Alistair is in the shower, which is fine. But Celine—fuck—Celine is sitting on the closed toilet, staring blankly at the wall. Her wings are dripping water all over the tiled floor.
Before I make a conscious decision, I’m on my knees at her feet. Carefully, I take her balled-up hands in mine. “Talk to me,” I urge.
Her eyes meet mine reluctantly. In comparison to her wings, they’re almost painfully dry.
“Why won’t he let me go?” she asks.
“Your father?”
Celine nods. “When I hit you, I was dreaming about—” She pushes to her feet. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”
I stay in my hunched position, looking up at her. “That’s bullshit. If you’re flooding the bathroom because of it, your dream matters a lot.”
Celine stares at the wall over my head. “Dad wasn’t a safe person to be around,” she whispers. “He used his fists to prove points.”
Anger hums low in my stomach. I hate the haunted shadow in Celine’s eyes, and the drips falling from her drooping wings? They’re unacceptable. I prefer her fire, even when it burns everything in her path . . . including me.
I could tell her I’m sorry. I could promise to kill him for her. Neither feels right, so I remain crouched where I am, silently listening, afraid to interrupt and make things worse.
“As soon as she—I mean, as soon as I could, I left. Faked my death and used an illegal portal with the tracking magic disabled to get off realm. It’s been years; I thought he’d forgotten.
But no, he won’t be satisfied until he’s taken everything in the universe that brings me happiness.
Don’t you see? He can’t win unless I lose, so he’ll keep trying.
It’s his own sick, twisted form of balance. ”
My face contorts. Some of her word choices . . . They’re specific, but I don’t get the significance. I need to tread lightly. I also need to understand.
“Balance?” I ask. “Balance for what?”
“For my flaws,” she whispers bitterly. “In his eyes, they’re endless.”
My anger builds, but I shove it down. This isn’t about me or my desire to make him pay. It’s about Celine. It’s about erasing the agony on her face.
“Baby, I can’t pretend to understand what you’ve been through,” I say. “But I swear to you—on my basilisk’s life and freedom—that I’ll fight by your side until all your nightmares are dead.”
There isn’t a thing more important to me.
My parents fled the monster realm with nothing but the clothes on their backs.
They made a life for us here, all to keep me from knowing the pain of having my basilisk bound.
To betray their sacrifices would be unthinkable.
Almost as unthinkable as betraying Celine.
She knows how fiercely I cling to my free will. It’s how we first bonded, six years ago when she wandered into the club, thick thighs, thicker accent, and the thickest guard I’d ever seen. I looked out for her then. Now, I hope she sees my words as what they are: an unbreakable vow.
Celine stares at me, the steam making a few strands of red hair stick to her temples. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and my heart sinks as I read her skepticism loud and clear. She doesn’t believe me. Not fully.
“Luca, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you don’t have to make pretty speeches,” she says. “Not to me.”
I shove to my feet. “I hate your doubt,” I say. “If you can’t take me at my word after all we’ve been through, then test me. Fucking test me, Celine, because I’m not leaving this room with you thinking I’m a liar.”
Even though all I want to do is scream, I force myself to keep my voice low. I’ve noticed how she sometimes flinches when someone shouts, and the last thing I want is for her to be scared of me.
“If truth is your radiant gift, then test me. Prove to us both—now, tomorrow, and forever—that I’ve got your back no matter what.”
There’s a beat of silence. The constant dripping of her wings is a slower, gentler rainfall compared to the pressure of the shower. My raspy breaths are out of place, but there’s fuck all I can do about it. I’m a live wire. I need her to ground me this time.
One by one, the runes wallpaper Celine’s skin, as seamless and natural as the smattering of freckles on her lower back.
Clearing my throat, I hold her gaze, every nerve in my body singing.
“I vow to you that I will fight by your side. Right or wrong, I don’t care, you’ll never have a reason to doubt me.
If I need to storm the heavens and drag every one of your enemies to hell, I’ll do it, baby—and I don’t give a single solitary fuck what anyone has to say about that. ”
I cradle her face, ignoring how my fingers tremble. “Truth or lie?” I ask, biting my tongue to resist the urge to say more.
“Truth,” Celine whispers, a flicker of shock flashing through her eyes. “You’re telling the truth.”
I roll mine. “I fucking told you I was.”
“But why?” Her voice cracks.
Determined, I hold her stare. It’s time for the ultimate truth. She won’t be satisfied with less. In a perfect world, Alistair wouldn’t be listening from the shower and we wouldn’t be in danger, but this isn’t a perfect world. It’s ours.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I ask her. “I’m in love with you, Celine. I always have been, and I always will be.”
I let the words sit between us, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me as I wait for her response. Besides a sharp intake of breath, she doesn’t say a word. Her silence hurts a hell of a lot more than my snapped collarbone.
My basilisk screams in pain, feeling the rejection acutely, then coils in the back of my chest to lick its wounds. I’m a fool. I did it. I manned up and told her my biggest secret—the only one left between us—and now I know exactly how it feels to be cannibalized by my own vulnerability.
Unable to face Celine’s blank stare a second longer, I shove my pants down, yank the curtain open, and step into the shower. Alistair makes room for me, sympathy written all over his face.
Still, she says nothing.
I close my eyes, then open them again. I’m not a coward. I said something I meant, and I won’t be ashamed of it.
Pressing shampoo into my hand, Alistair mouths, Give her time.
I nod shortly. For some reason, I’m not ashamed that he witnessed my most humiliating moment.
Alistair backs away from the spray, giving me room to lather my hair. I wince at the pain in my collarbone as I try to lift my hands to my head. Silently, he bats them away, rinsing the shampoo out himself, then working conditioner into the ends as I wash my body.
After about three minutes, I’m squeaky clean, heartbroken, and working my way toward blissfully numb. On two hours of sleep, it’s the best I can manage.
Alistair audibly clears his throat. “You two be careful,” he says. “There’s something going on here that we’re missing. We need to quit reacting, put our heads together, and figure it out.”
Celine doesn’t respond, and I’m tempted to look around the curtain and make sure my declaration didn’t actually scare her to death. I don’t, though. I can’t, at least not while I’m holding out hope that she’ll yank the vinyl back herself and tell me she loves me too.
“We’ll be careful,” I tell Alistair. “Hopefully, whoever broke in left a clue behind, or maybe these kids have more to say.”
Still nothing.
Alistair frowns, then pokes his head out of the shower. “Celine,” he calls.
No answer.
“You don’t think . . .” I mutter. “She wouldn’t take off without me while all of this is going on?”
“I’ll wring her neck if she did.” Alistair looks back at me, his eyes glowing red. He shakes his head to clear them, clenching his jaw tight.
“It would be on brand for her,” I say.
Turning the water off, I wrap a towel around my waist and rush into the bedroom. There’s no sign of red hair or wings. Alistair surges down the hall, completely naked, not even bothering with a towel. He’s barely out of sight when I hear a furious growl.
“She’s gone,” he snarls. “They both are.”
I push my throbbing emotions aside, leaving only cold, focused determination. This isn’t a crisis, but I need to find her and make sure she’s okay. Knowing her hang-ups, I should have expected this, but part of me thought we were past it.
“I’ll find her,” I tell Alistair, noting the crazed gleam in his eyes and feeling vaguely relieved that he’s stuck indoors for this one. “I’ll find her. I swear.”
I mean it as much as I meant what I said to Celine in the bathroom. The only difference is, Alistair believes me without magic to prove it.