Chapter 58
Fifty-Eight
Blue Lace Agate
“What makes this dagger so special?” Adrian asks warily. “You left behind your home—not knowing if you’d be able to get back—why?”
Because Nightfall may be the key to releasing the chokehold Moros and Vidaris have over Crea once and for all. Because this might be our only chance at getting a leg up if war does break out.
Instead, I settle on saying, “You’ve witnessed magic first-hand when you were in Crea—you saw what true darkness looks like. This weapon could help us stop darkness like that from harming both realms.”
As I say it, I realize how much I mean it—how mentioning that it could save Crea isn’t just for Adrian’s benefit. Being back here, I realize I don’t hate it anymore. I pity it.
The people in this kingdom didn’t ask for this darkness, didn’t ask to be severed from the fae and be trapped in a dying land. They deserve to have someone fight for them, too.
“That darkness could come to Crea?” Adrian asks.
I nod. “It’s already here.”
He pales and turns back to the window, eyes drifting over the empty market and scattered trees.
“Tell me what I can do to help,” Adrian grits out.
I lie in bed, staring up at the same ceiling as when I was forced to come to the castle all those months ago. There’s the light shuffle of Graylen’s feet against the floorboards as he gets ready for bed.
Adrian agreed to help us search for Nightfall. We didn’t mention how I have a shard of it that will hopefully lead me to it, or that I had a magical vision about Moros in the secret library room, but he knows far more than we initially planned on telling him.
That room will be the first place we check—and hopefully the last.
A chill sweeps through the room as the temperature drops outside, and I pull the furred blankets up to my chin.
It’s hard to imagine how much my life was about to change when I was still that girl—how many people I was going to begin to care for and love, how different I would feel harnessing the suppressed magic within me.
On reflex, my fingers reach up to graze where the collar sat earlier.
Even with it gone, there’s still no flicker of magic inside of me. No rushing of relief as it floods back in or even flickers as it refills slowly. It’s just as empty as it was when I wore the suppressor.
“Are you ready to dreamwalk again?” Graylen’s deep voice shakes me out of my spiraling thoughts.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I mutter. The plan has been for me to search through my dream state to avoid anyone seeing us. The perfect plan…other than the fact that my magic has been slowly draining since using the shard.
“Do you still feel it depleting?” he asks quietly, voice muffled from the washroom.
I squeeze my eyes shut, rubbing my fingers over my temples. He doesn’t need to specify what it is.
“It isn’t the same as before I used the shard,” I answer, opening my eyes to stare at the ceiling.
“It’s like it isn’t fully replenished, but no amount of rest will let it fill back up.
It’s just…leaking like cracks in a flower vase, the water slowly dripping out. ” The words taste sour on my tongue.
“We’ll find Nightfall.” His soft footfalls come closer, and his voice clears as he steps back into the bedroom. “If anyone can, it’s you.”
Tears gather in my eyes, exhaustion and frustration filling my chest with tightness as I keep my focus off him. He can already hear through my deflection; I don’t want to see it in his gaze, too.
Graylen rustles something on the far side of the room, giving me a moment to myself.
“And if we don’t?” I voice the thing I’ve been afraid to ask myself.
We both know my magic should’ve returned by now. We’ve spent weeks trudging through Crea to find our way here, and all I’ve felt is the ache of it slowly leaving.
“We will,” he vows.
I sigh and roll onto my side, facing where Graylen is triple-checking that the window is safely locked.
“I don’t think anyone is getting through there, little soldier,” I whisper.
His shoulders shake with silent laughter. He peers over his shoulder, his eyes light and sparkling with mischief.
I relax when a genuine luster shines in his gaze.
“Can never be too careful when I have something as precious as you sleeping next to me,” he whispers in reply.
My cheeks heat, and I roll my eyes—but warmth fills me at his teasing tone. It feels so familiar, so him. It gives me hope that he might be healing after all.
Graylen spins toward me, reaching for the top button of his tunic. Slowly, he walks toward me, undoing the buttons until he reaches the end of the bed. He leaves the tunic on, but with the buttons undone, I get a spectacular view of his sculpted abdomen.
He looks down at me. I allow my gaze to shamelessly trace the ridges of his stomach and chest. When I’ve had my fill, I glance back up to where he towers over me.
The corners of his mouth twitch up, and he leans over, still not touching me or the bed.
A small strand of hair falls forward into his eye. He pushes it back, his shirt lifting to expose a sliver of skin, his pants slung low on his hips. The movement brings heat to my cheeks, memories of my hands splayed across his abdomen assaulting my thoughts.
Graylen stops to hover over me, the fresh scent of rain about to fall overwhelming my senses. I clear my throat and shake my head, pushing the memories away.
“Please.” His eyes sparkle as he grins. “Don’t let me interrupt the thoughts that caused you to blush.”
He lifts his eyes to meet mine, and I swear I can see fire dancing in them. My Aegis boy, my fiery, perfect man who drives me insane. I feel my cheeks flame—undoubtedly a deep shade of pink now. With narrowed eyes, I say, “Hard to interrupt when there wasn’t a single thought in my mind.”
The left side of his mouth lifts into a smirk. “Oh, I highly doubt that.” He chuckles lightly and twists to sit beside me, the bed dipping under his weight. “I could practically hear you thinking all the way from the window.”
I look down, a soft smile playing across my lips. “The same could be said for you most days,” I mutter. I hesitate, afraid of breaking the lightness between us. “You’ve been distant.”
Silence reverberates through the room, and I hold my breath. What if I just ruined the moment? Or, worse, what if I brought up memories of what happened to him?
Finally, he grunts in agreement and says, “It’s hard to stop thinking about the things that happened in the Vale.” He lets out a breath. “I can’t stop the thoughts from repeating over and over again.”
My throat tightens.
“Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her.” Graylen’s voice wavers, and he pauses, grimacing.
Pain flashes in his gaze, and my heart lurches into my throat.
“I still do,” he admits softly. “I go to sleep and wake up thinking I still have chains shackled to my wrists.
I close my eyes, seeing nothing but visions of her vile grin.
“I’m sorry I pushed you away.” His eyes pinch closed before fluttering back open, his lids lined with unshed tears. My heart breaks a little more. “But I couldn’t stop seeing what she had done to me, even in the daylight. It’s all I could think about.”
All this time, I thought he was ignoring what had happened to him. Not reliving it day in and day out.
Guilt pools in my chest. I should’ve tried harder to make him talk about it—shouldn’t have let him push me away.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” I whisper. “I’m right here—always.”
He swallows and looks away. “I didn’t want you to see me differently,” he admits.
Surprise floods my veins. See him differently? All this time, I was afraid he would see me differently now that my magic is failing me. I’m not the same as I was before, and neither is he. Maybe that isn’t a bad thing.
“Graylen,” I beg, my voice so desperate that it causes him to look at me. His emerald eyes shine, a warring storm brewing behind them. “No matter who you are, I choose you.”
“You’ve been pulling away,” he whispers. “I pushed, but you drifted.”
This time, it’s my turn to hesitate.
The omission cuts deep into my soul.
I let him push me away because I was afraid.
My hands cup his jaw, bracketing his face. I search his eyes, finding a vulnerability there I haven’t seen before.
If he can be honest, then so can I.
“I’m losing my magic,” I admit. “You fell in love with a girl who had four different types of magic all at her fingertips. Now… What if I lose it all? Who will I be then?”
He freezes, realization spreading across his face. “You will be Lunaria Manor,” he says slowly. “That doesn’t change who you are. And you’re wrong about something.”
My brows draw together.
“I fell in love with a human girl I didn’t know belonged in my world.
” Graylen’s lips tilt into a soft smile.
“I fell for a girl that sassed me and gave me hell. For a girl that trained in the gardens and punched harder than she smiled. I didn’t fall for you when we were in Penyth, Lu. I fell for you long before that.”
Warmth spreads through my chest, quieting the hammering in my ears. “I’m sorry I doubted you,” I say quietly, my voice thick. “I wish I could replace every one of those memories with something good.”
Something sparks in his gaze; I can practically see an idea churning in his mind.
Slowly, he reaches out, his hand brushing my hair off of my shoulder. He takes two fingers and presses them at the base of my throat.
“This is where she tried to make me believe I had run a sword through you,” he says softly. “It was my hand that held the blade.”
My lips part, and my pulse begins to thrash beneath the weight of his fingers.
“That’s the one I see the most often, the one that haunts me in my sleep.” His eyes fall to where his hand connects to my neck. “Every time I look here, I can hear the way you cried out in agony—how you begged for me to save you.”
His hand falls away, dangling in his lap. Then he leans forward, and my breath catches. He gently presses a kiss to the base of my neck, the same spot his fingers just warmed.