Chapter 54
Chapter Fifty-Four
Emmeline
Sharing a horse with Roremar, his arms around her waist and chest warm against her back through her leathers, set all of Emmeline’s nerves on edge.
She could still feel his voice rumbling against her neck, his lips pressing into her skin, hear his ragged breaths, desperate to remove all those final barriers between them.
But they couldn’t.
And based on his poor temper as they rode out of Valyn and south of the capital, Desmond and Myrella on a horse behind them, Roremar had finally accepted her lies.
“We should stop here,” Roremar said, dismounting when they were about a quarter mile from their destination. “The horses might get spooked if we ride too close.”
Emmeline swung down after him, but Roremar didn’t look at her. The avoidance pinched in her chest. It’s what you asked for, she reminded herself.
Truthfully, she’d been surprised he agreed to come with them. He’d been so adamant about not knowing any of the details of the latest murder. Perhaps the poison trial and the clear malfunctioning of his Fate tie changed that.
“We’ll stay back with them,” Desmond said, Myrella nodding in agreement as he took the reins. Roremar stomped off into the jungle.
“Good luck,” Myrella whispered to Emmeline. Her heart warmed a little with the gentle squeeze of her hand.
“Thanks,” Emmeline said before turning to follow Roremar down the overgrown path.
Despite his silence, he still stopped to hold vines out of her way, clearing the crooked dirt path of fallen branches with his sword, which Desmond had returned to him for the evening, the dark gems gobbling up what starlight slipped between the trees.
Of course, he watched her even though he was angry; he always ensured she was taken care of. But it didn’t help her decipher why he’d barely said a word the entire ride out here.
Once it was an acceptable time for them to sneak away from the vineyard, Desmond had disappeared to get Roremar from the cells while Emmeline raced back to the manor with Myrella and Lola—the latter asserting she could cover for them with her guards tonight, a fact that had Desmond’s jaw popping incessantly.
Emmeline had insisted she and Roremar needed this space, but she fidgeted at the stiff silence. She hadn’t realized how it would feel when he finally listened.
“I don’t know what we’ll find out here,” she confessed as they climbed the sloped terrain, parting the overgrown jungle carefully.
“Seems like vague direction is all we should ever expect from the Fates,” Roremar said, tone more gruff than usual. It twisted her chest.
Emmeline sighed. “Appears so.”
The roar of the falls mounted as they climbed through the jungle brush.
Emmeline tried to focus on the vines snaking the path, on keeping her feet from knotting in their gnarled reach, and not on Roremar’s breath at her back, but she could practically feel his heartbeat in her own chest. Frustration and desperation pinched her lungs.
And it was the combination that finally had her asking, “What happened tonight?”
“Hm?” he hummed, the noise nearly lost in the rumble of the waterfalls beyond the tree line.
She halted, turning to look up at him. Roremar stopped so close, the flat grey of his eyes was clear.
“What happened since I saw you earlier?” Earlier, when he would have fucked her right there where anyone could have seen if she’d asked him to. Where he let her walk away, though he’d sworn days ago he’d never give up.
A vow she hadn’t realized she’d been holding on to like a lifeline. Now, it slipped through her fingers.
Roremar pursed his lips. “Maybe I took your word for it.”
“What?” Her heart shattered, each piece piercing something vital. Her blood seeped between her ribs, filling her lungs. She struggled to breathe over it.
A part of her had been so certain he wouldn’t believe her, that maybe there was some way, some twist of Fate, in which she could keep him after all.
Because as much as it scared her—as much as she ran from it—they were bigger than this. Bigger than the stars.
Roremar huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “You’d be more convincing if you tried to hide your devastation, Huntress.”
She straightened. “What’s that mean?”
Roremar stepped forward, so close his thigh brushed hers, forcing her head to tip back to see him. “Maybe I finally listened. You admitted you don’t want me, right? Perhaps after all these weeks, I’m finally doing what you wish and leaving you alone.”
Her mind raced.
Now I’ll stop at nothing to get you back.
Those words—all the promises he’d made her—were seared in her memory. Their truths were woven through her magic. And Roremar was always true to his word, even when it hurt.
Emmeline narrowed her eyes. “You’re lying.”
“Do you want me to be?” A challenging quirk of his brow, and she was transported back to Lyra. To a time before everything had gone so wrong when they were dancing around this thing between them.
No, she should say. But a part of her—the part that had let him in back on the isles—was so tired of lying. “I don’t know.”
It wasn’t entirely untrue. She was torn into pieces by this fucking game they were stuck playing.
Save his life.
Ruin them both.
Her will was fraying more each day.
That confession must have been enough to pierce Roremar’s resolve. His hands landed on her waist as if keeping her from disappearing at his next words. Her heart ran wild at his touch.
Thumbs brushing circles over her ribs, he said, “Rocarri paid me a visit today. He told me about your little deal.”
Shock rocked through her. Her hands fisted in his tunic to keep from falling over. “Deal?”
“That he threatened you. Told you to stay in line—to be their example, their prize—if you wanted me to stay alive.” His hands tightened, and despite how wrong his words were—how much she shouldn’t want him to be revealing her deceit—it felt so right for him to know.
She should have guessed Roremar Silventa would always uncover her secrets.
“That’s why you’ve been pushing me away, isn’t it?
” Challenge flared in his voice, daring her to deny it.
“Why you wouldn’t look at me after I was stabbed.
You think it’s your fault. You think someone saw us together and attacked me to knock out the threat.
That by staying away from me, you’re saving my life.
That’s why you said you don’t want this.
Because the Chancellor, the Angel, this entire Fatesdamned clan has you at their beck and call, and they’re using my life as leverage, aren’t they? ”
She didn’t answer him, just sank her teeth into her bottom lip. His stare followed the motion, every place his eyes touched burning. Breathing labored, he tugged her lip free.
“That’s what’s going on here, isn’t it, Huntress?” he repeated.
“Yes.” She could barely hear the word over her own heart pounding, but freedom spread wings in her chest to finally say it.
She knew Roremar wasn’t surprised by her answer, yet his heartbreak was palpable. It was metallic on her tongue, a sting in the back of her eyes. His face showed every crumbling emotion, and each knocked her down.
Softly, he asked, “Why do you let them control you?”
“Because it’s the only option I have.”
“It’s not.” He shook his head, dark waves bouncing across his brow. His hand slid to her cheek. “You’re so much stronger than them. They want you. Desire is power, Emmeline.”
“And I’m using it in the only way I know how.
In trying to out manipulate them.” The words tumbled from her like the waterfall rumbling beyond the trees.
Finally, finally, laying it all out before him.
“It makes so much sense when I’m here with you, why everything they’re doing is unfair, but when I’m actually facing it, it’s overwhelming.
The people, their intentions, and whom they can hurt if I’m not malleable.
The way my magic destroys everyone it touches, yet they all want it so badly.
I’m so used to hiding—to only having to fend for myself and follow my own will—but all my defenses have been ripped away. I’ve never been so on display.”
His hand tightened on her waist, each explanation of how used she really was making his jaw tick. “Fight them, Em.”
“I don’t know how! I worked to get to Valyn Temple Academy for years, and now I’m in the city in a way I never imagined.
I’m not an instructor, I’m a prisoner. I’m supposed to be looking for my sister, and I’ve barely found anything because I’m watched at every turn, and the Fates will tell me nothing. And everyone thinks I belong to them!”
She groaned, head tilting back to the impossibly tall trees, their woven canopy spinning. Another cage.
Roremar’s hand slipped to the back of her neck, tilting her gaze back to his and stilling her world.
“Listen to me, Em.” He paused, waiting for her to focus on his steel eyes.
“Listen to me,” he repeated, much softer, voice blending with the falls, thumb brushing rhythmically over her pulse point.
“You don’t belong to them. You belong to no one, okay? Not even me.”
“I want to belong,” she said in a small broken whisper that felt as monumental as the cracking of realms.
It pulled at her chest, those words Rocarri had claimed after the first trial. That sort of power belongs here. In Valyn, where she could be used but her magic wouldn’t hurt anyone else she loved.
“I know.” Roremar nodded. And Emmeline knew it was true. He really did feel every bleeding piece of her. “You don’t belong to anyone, though. Not even me. You belong with me, not to me.”
He’d told her as much before. Tucked away in the apartment above Fated Ink, when they had no idea what fortune awaited them. How they would be pulled apart in a tragic star-crossed tale; how they might fight their way back together.
But the darkest tragedies often spun the most beautiful stories, and theirs was the most heart wrenching of all.
Exhausted, Emmeline leaned her forehead against Roremar’s chest, his fingers stroking down her spine.