Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
We landed in a dead garden. What had once been trellised walkways lay dried and broken, the great plants hollowed out and withered to husks.
Nothing grew there, not even weeds dared to spring up from the cracked dirt.
The light was pale and sourceless, with none of the blue motes that drifted elsewhere in his kingdom.
It was ugly, tangled, barren, a reflection of exactly what I felt.
Airen set me on my feet but didn’t step back.
His green eyes flashed as he scrutinized me, his whole body strung taut, vibrating with emotion.
Rage, I thought. It matched my own fury.
Now that we stood face to face, with nothing but dead vines surrounding us, I understood just how furious I was with him for his silence.
“What happened to you?” he demanded.
“Where were you?” I retorted. “I called. I pressed my hand to every stone wall. I even ventured into the tunnels, but you never came.”
He grimaced. “I couldn’t.”
It wasn’t enough. “That’s not an answer,” I spat.
I closed the distance between us with my chin lifted, my hands balled into fists. Close enough to see the pulse ticking in his throat. He did not back away or blink, only looked down at me, and something moved behind his eyes that was not human at all.
He searched my face again, as though he were looking for a lie.
With a sigh, he relented. “That night you danced, I felt the shift. We were almost free. I woke my people, one by one, then the rift tore, but it was all wrong. Instead of letting us up into the light, into your realm, the demons charged in. I have spent these past weeks in the dark, fighting them and burying members of my court who died before they ever opened their eyes.” His voice dropped, rough.
“I could not come. If I had left that fight, there would be no court left to free.”
That confession should have taken the fight out of me.
My unfinished dance had dealt both of us a terrible blow.
He’d endured terrible things for the past four weeks, but it didn’t diminish my pain or my anger.
There, in the middle of the worst thing either of us had ever said out loud, I noticed the shape of him beneath his black coat, the wine and citrus heat rising off him, and the way his voice went low and rough.
I wanted him. All that time I lay tied up in bed, my mind believed I’d invented him, while my body ached for the memory of him.
“Because I wasn’t able to complete the dance, you were trapped here?”
“Yes.” His jaw went tight. “What happened? Tell me all of it.”
So I told him about the arrow through my shoulder, the demon in the tunnel that opened my body while I screamed his name to a wall that would not part.
The bottle Sacred Mother pressed to my mouth again and again until I drank it gladly, grateful for the numbness, to escape the pain.
I shared the nights I woke to shadows feeding on me, never sure if they were real, and the work she did on my mind until I lay in that bright room, half-believing I’d dreamed of him, the decaying kingdom, and the murders.
I told him how they called me insane and thought me delusional until Betta came and forced me out of my misery.
He listened, and I noticed he did not burden me with his story or the horrors he endured. Nor did he make light of my suffering.
The garden changed while I spoke. It happened so gradually I didn’t notice until it was done.
The light shifted. Frost crept along the cracked beds and up the dead trellises, and the vines that had been merely withered went black and brittle.
Behind him, his shadow had taken a shape of its own.
It stood at his shoulder, tall and still. And it wasn’t shaped like him.
A clicking sound came, like claws on stone.
“I will kill her,” he said quietly.
The coldness of his tone was like ice. I’d never seen him like this. Angry, irritated, and hungry, yes. But this was something else, terrifying and murderous, and that cold, irate anger was on my behalf.
“Don’t,” I said, even though it was exactly what I wanted. “Don’t give me your rage. You weren’t there, and the worst of it is that it’s my fault too.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t accept all the blame.”
“But it is, isn’t it? I didn’t complete the dance. Instead of letting you out, I let the demons in. You suffered. We both suffered. I don’t forgive myself for that.”
I twisted my fingers together, pressing them to my chest.
He cupped my hands with his, a gentleness coming over him. “It wasn’t your fault. Forgive yourself for this. The dance has always carried risks.”
“There’s more,” I said, my heart slamming against my ribs. I closed my eyes briefly, thinking I would be sick before I said the words. “Sacred Mother said something to you up there, on the stairs. She said you were no better than she because there are two ways to seduce someone.”
“She’s a liar who’s had centuries to practice.”
“Then tell me she was lying.” I stepped closer, feeling the heat of him. “The first night, in your chamber, you sat at that piano and played. I danced for you then, but my body was not my own. You compelled me. I had no control.”
Those green eyes flashed, and his hands tightened around mine.
He moved forward, and despite myself, I backed away until my back pressed against one of the dead trellis, and there was nowhere else to go.
Releasing me, he placed one hand on the wood beside my head and leaned in close.
“Say the rest of it,” he demanded, against my mouth. “Don’t stop now.”
Boldness came up my spine. I wanted to glare at him, but my anger was gone.
“Is it me you want? Or is it my blood? Because I have spent four weeks unable to tell the difference, and I need you to tell me which one it is. I need it to be the truth because you’re the only one who’s ever given me that. ”
To his credit, Airen did not look away, but a muscle in his cheek jumped, and his emerald eyes blazed.
“Your question is just, even though the fact you had to ask it fills me with rage. What she did to you wasn’t right.
But, Gazelle, there is a difference between me and her.
It is true; we both want you for our own purposes, but her reasons are entirely selfish while mine are for my people, my court.
For the good of the Hollow Ones. But there’s more.
She took what she did because she could, but I’d rather have nothing from you than anything you did not give freely.
I played the piano, showed you how I could control you so that you could feel the weight of what I needed from you.
But you weren’t what I expected. I never needed to use it on you. ”
Those were the exact words I wanted to hear, and I blinked hard, trying not to lean into his warmth, fighting not to give in.
His gaze dropped to my mouth and stayed there long enough to burn.
I wanted him to close the last sliver of distance.
I wanted him to take me. But I still had questions.
“What about my bloodline being the key to your freedom?”
His nostrils flared, and he drew a sharp breath.
“Your bloodline is my demise, and my salvation all at once, but I woke because of you. Think about it. There wasn’t one woman in your bloodline who had the ability to wake me, to free me, until you.
You made a mistake when you danced, and I felt you, and I’ve felt you ever since. As though…”
He released me suddenly, his hands dropping to his sides, even though he did not step back.
His chest rose and fell with intensity. He leaned closer, his words falling across my lips.
“I wanted you before I knew you were the key to my freedom, my salvation. I was not there when the rift broke, when they put an arrow in you and convinced you this all was a dream. I felt your suffering, and I could not come. That is my guilt to carry, and I will.”
The frost spread back across the garden. He did not appear to notice.
“And when this is finished,” he continued, “I’m going to take back from her every hour she took from you.
Slowly. She’s had centuries. I intend to make her feel each one.
Now, you should know, Gazelle, that I will not force you to do anything you don’t want to.
If you choose to turn around and walk away, I will let you.
I’d rather have your love because you choose it, than force you to bend to my will. That is a king’s promise.”
My fingers came loose, and I pressed them against his heart, feeling the erratic beat. “I missed you,” I said. “I was angry with you and furious at the situation, but I missed you. I wanted to come back here, and for the first time, I didn’t want to choose the dance. Not over you.”
“And I never wanted to choose my people over you. You are my dawn, you’re my light, my moon, my ritual. I would ask you to dance with me again, to set things right once and for all. Stay with me, Gazelle.”
I leaned into him, breathing deep, breathing in truth. “I intend to,” I whispered.
He kissed me, and I shattered.
His arms came around me, pressing me close.
One hand slid into my curls, cradling the back of my head, tilting my head exactly where he wanted it.
He kissed me the way I’d screamed his name at the walls, like something that had to get through.
I dragged him closer, the dead trellis at my back, the vines breaking around us.
Wine and spice and that bright thread of citrus filled my head.
His teeth scraped against my lower lip, and a shudder went through him as I arched into him.
We kissed like two desperate souls, and somewhere in the middle of it, the frost faded from the garden.
When I opened my eyes, coming up for air, green shoots were poking through the dirt.