Chapter 19
Emmeric
The hike back through the jungle was subdued.
Everybody seemed to be reeling from all that Yrza had told them—Kaz especially.
Emmeric kept stealing glances at Iyana. He’d noticed her reticence the past few days to move forward with leaving Nyr, but he hadn’t expected the terror she’d felt when Yrza confirmed she was the only one who could banish the stars back to the sky.
Everyone exchanged murmured good nights as they reached their rooms, and they made vague promises of talking in the morning.
Iyana slumped against the wall and slid down it until she was sitting, cradling her face in her palms. Emmeric silently sat down next to her.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
She shook her head. So they sat there quietly, Em hoping his presence gave her some comfort.
It had surprised him the other day when Iyana had been against going to Istoria to beg their queen for aid.
He thought she would be the one among them championing to save humanity.
But Altair had scooped out her confidence and her daring, leaving only a shell of a woman behind. Now, she was as timid as the mouse he’d named her, but that wasn’t who she actually was.
He’d named her Mouse after the mouse thistle cactus, because she was small and prickly, but also beautiful, sweet, and resilient.
This broken woman next to him was almost unrecognizable compared to the one who had lived through torture and killing her enemy.
The one who wasn’t afraid to put him in his place or argue with him.
Emmeric missed their arguments.
“Why does it have to be me?” she mumbled, her hands still covering her face and muffling her words. Iyana lowered her hands and looked up at him, her eyes wide and lined with tears. “Why me?”
“I don’t know, Mouse,” he said gently.
“It’s not fair!” Iyana jumped to her feet and began pacing the room.
Emmeric could only sit and watch as she finally let loose and was honest about what she was feeling.
“I only wanted to be a healer. I wanted to stay in my little village where I was comfortable and keep my tribe healthy. All of this”—she flung her arms around her—“fucking adventure…
I never wanted it. I was happy. Content.
“And then you, and Zane, and Talon marched into Imothia and upturned my entire life!”
“Now hold on.” Emmeric stood swiftly and frowned down at her. “You’re going to blame us—your friends—for this? Absolutely not. I understand you’re hurting and scared—”
Iyana scoffed.
“You’re scared, Iyana, and that’s okay. We’re all a little scared.
This is new for everyone. But how about a little personal accountability, huh?
You called out to the stars for help. Your magic allowed Altair to fall.
You fell in love with him and trusted him blindly, even when I was telling you not to! ”
Hurt barreled through him, and Emmeric realized he’d taken it too far.
“Iyana. Mouse…” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re right,” she whispered. “I did this. None of this would’ve happened if it wasn’t for me. If I’d made different choices.”
Emmeric approached her slowly and tilted her chin until she was looking at his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. We can’t be attacking each other—not right now, when we need to be unified. All of this is because of Uther. I’m so sorry, Iyana.”
“It’s okay.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and Emmeric wanted to either throw himself out the window or fall at her feet to beg for forgiveness. He wiped the tear away with his thumb.
“It’s not okay. I need you to know I’m with you. To the ends of the earth. Through the nine hells and back, if that’s what it takes.”
Iyana stared at him, her caramel-colored eyes shining with unshed tears. Multiple emotions flitted through her so quickly, Emmeric couldn’t fully understand one before another took its place.
Then her hands were gripping his tunic and pulling him towards her, and before Emmeric realized what was happening, Iyana’s lips were on his. She kissed him fiercely, and Emmeric hauled her into his body, kissing her back without hesitation.
Gods, her lips were so full and soft—just like he’d always dreamed they would be. Emmeric wound her long hair around his fist and tugged her backwards ever so slightly, giving him a better angle. She moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound with his tongue.
Iyana abruptly broke away from him, breathless. His tunic was still clenched in her hands; her silky hair was in his fist. Emmeric had waited so long for this moment. So fucking long.
“Fuck me,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Please, Em. Please fuck me. I need to forget. I need a distraction right now from the mess my life has become.”
Her words were like ice water dumped over his head.
Emmeric gently untangled his hand from her hair and took a small step back.
Clearing his throat, he took her hands and removed them from his shirt.
Iyana’s brows furrowed in confusion. Gods, this was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. He shook his head.
“I can’t.” Phaedros take me, did I really just say that?
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
Hurt. He was hurting her. That was the last thing Emmeric ever wanted to do.
“Please, Iyana,” he rasped. “I want nothing more than to fuck you into such a stupor that the only word you remember is my name. I want to replace all of his touches with my own until you forget what he felt like. But you don’t want me, you only want the convenience I provide.
So, no Iyana, I won’t fuck you. Not until you want all of me. ”
“I thought you said you’d always be there for me,” she said, her voice beginning to raise in volume. Her face was pinched with anger.
“I will be, Mouse. Just not in that way. Not yet.”
Iyana’s eyes shuttered, and she threw up her walls, blocking him from the bond. The place she typically resided was suddenly empty, and Emmeric had to force himself not to rub his chest at the loss. He hated it when she did this.
“Mouse…”
“No, Emmeric,” she cut in tersely. “I get it. Goodnight.”
Iyana marched into her bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her.
Emmeric watched her go, then flopped onto the couch, covering his face with his hands.
He wanted to shout or punch something. He wanted to go in there and tell her he took it all back, that he loved her, and then fuck her into oblivion.
Sitting up, he reached for the small piece of wood and his knife to continue whittling his current project.
Emmeric was attempting to carve a small sprig of lavender for Iyana—both because it reminded him of her scent, and because she used it in a lot of her remedies.
The rounded portion of the flower was difficult to carve, and he hoped she’d appreciate the gesture once he was done, but he relished the challenge, regardless.
He would work on this project to keep his hands and his mind occupied until Iyana fell asleep—her wall always collapsed while she slept—and then he’d slip into bed with her to keep the nightmares at bay.
It was the same thing he’d been doing since they had been in Nyr.
There were times he would wish that Iyana would simply recognize her feelings for him, and they could be together.
He wouldn’t have to go through this whole charade of sleeping in separate rooms when they both wanted to be in the other’s arms.
It made him hate Altair all that much more. If Emmeric ever saw the star again, he would do everything in his power to make sure he killed him. There was no universe in which he would allow anyone to hurt Iyana again.
Iyana’s block on their bond slowly unraveled, and Emmeric knew she was asleep.
He put his carving away, washed the thin film of sweat—which always seemed to be present in this jungle—off his body, then slipped into bed.
Iyana rolled over and snuggled in to his side.
His lips curled into a small smile. She always did this, even when she was dead to the world; her body sought him out when he was next to her.
It wasn’t enough. But, for now, he would take any breadcrumbs she was willing to give. Emmeric tightened his grip around Iyana’s waist, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.
Someone was shaking him. Emmeric awoke suddenly and his hand was halfway underneath the pillow to grab the dagger he kept there until he saw it was only Iyana.
Her face hovered over his, her hair falling around them in a curtain that blocked out the rest of the world.
Every last part of his body was screaming at him to touch her, but he found he was paralyzed by the look in her eyes.
“You were having another nightmare,” she murmured.
He had been. This one was different, though. Lately, his nightmares had been memories of the Dead Lands. This one…
“Did you see any of it?” he asked her, hoping she would say no.
But she nodded. Emmeric brushed her hair back behind her ear.
“Come here.” He tugged her gently back towards him, and she moved without complaint, tucking herself into his side.
He sighed and focused on the feeling of her body next to his. This was real—not the dream.
They had been on the battlefield, surrounded by stars.
Zane and Talon were lying dead off to one side.
Emmeric had been struck through the stomach by a sword, and he could do nothing but watch from the ground as Altair shoved his hand into Iyana’s chest and ripped out her still-beating heart.
She crumpled onto the ground as Altair grinned in triumph, and all Emmeric could do was scream her name.
He shivered. Iyana tightened her grip around his waist. They lay like that for several minutes as the sun rose, slowly lighting the room.
They’d need to go meet with the others soon to discuss everything they had learned the night before.
Emmeric was comfortable where he was, though, and content to stretch this out as long as he could.
“So we can really send pictures to each other now?” Iyana asked quietly.
“It seems that way. Want to test it out?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
Emmeric pictured a bright yellow flower blooming underneath a sunny sky and was rewarded when she smiled.
“That was beautiful. Daffodils are so lovely. We don’t see them often in the desert.”
“They were my mother’s favorite.” A sharp pang of grief clanged through his entire body, like it did whenever he thought of his parents. It had been thirteen years without them, but the memories were still painful. Iyana clutched him closer. He cleared his throat. “Your turn.”
A blurry image began to form in his mind, then slowly came into focus. He was standing in a room shirtless, and Iyana was kneeling in front of him, her lips wrapped around his—
“Iyana!” Emmeric thrust her away from him and the image dissipated. “Iyana, please, be merciful.”
She smirked up at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, this is going to be fun, I think.” Iyana grinned. “Come on, let’s go get some breakfast.”
Iyana rolled out of bed, but Emmeric flopped onto his back—he would need a minute to recover before he felt comfortable getting out of bed.
He heard Iyana’s tinkling laughter as she went into the bathing room.
No matter how nicely he asked, Emmeric knew she would show him no mercy when it came to this.
Phaedros take him, this was going to be tortuous.