Chapter Fifteen
Every blink lasted longer, to the point where she was sure she would next open her eyes and see the world through a lens of shadow and mist, feel insatiable hunger and irrepressible vengeance.
What she saw instead was firelight dancing on dark stone.
Heavy green curtains draped carelessly over a large window, a sliver of the dusky sky peeking through.
A wall of flesh with a rapidly beating heart pressed against her cheek, the scent of smoke and earth filling her nose, even after it pulled away and was replaced by a soft surface.
A bed, she realized distantly, the sheets and throws delicate and luxurious against her sensitive skin.
Every breath she took was labored. Every thought sluggish.
When Reyes’s face appeared above hers, she couldn’t tell if it was a nightmare or a dream.
His hands pressed into her arms, pinned her to the bed like prey trapped beneath a predator.
With whatever strength she had left, Solana bucked her body and kicked her legs, tried to dislodge him and free herself from his grip, but it tightened, and then it spread, his hold on her reaching further than she could fight.
She was tired, and the dark was whispering, encouraging her to let go, to slip away, to be free.
Ususi, ususi, ususiiiiiiii.
But she couldn’t give in. Death would only further ensnare her in its cursed teeth, and she refused to be another meal.
Cool hands slipped over her cheeks and held her still. “Look at me,” Reyes demanded, the command familiar, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not going to hurt you, but you need to let my gift in. Tell me yes, Solana.”
The fog of her panic parted slightly, and her eyes focused on Reyes’s face—the grim line of his mouth, the furrow in his brow, the lock of silver that had slipped over his churning gray eyes. The warmth and concern there, once again aimed at her.
The intensity of it was startling. All she could do was wrap her hands around his wrists to brace herself and nod vigorously.
Her whole body shook in anticipation, and it wasn’t until Reyes climbed onto the bed and hovered over her, his hands on her cheeks, his forehead pressed to hers, and said, “I need to hear you say it,” that she was able to speak.
“Yes,” she hissed through chattering teeth. “Do it.”
Without his gift, she knew that she would die. Already, she could feel her life slipping between each blink, blood filling her chest so that every breath was wet and thick.
Above her, Reyes closed his eyes and let out a long exhale, his breath washing her in familiarity, a dichotomy of fear and eagerness swirling in her belly.
“Forgive me,” he whispered.
And then she felt the first touch of his gift like fingers prodding in curiosity, finding the source of her death and surging to mend.
Solana tried to loosen her grip on herself, tried to let him in, but old habits were hard to break, and his gift was forced to pry beneath her stubborn will.
It felt like he was slicing into the softest parts of her and pouring ice into her veins.
A demon’s poison couldn’t kill her, but perhaps this would.
It was sharp and invasive, poking and prodding and mending until she wasn’t sure what was worse—being broken or being put back together again. She was drowning beneath the frigid waters. Clawing for every breath. Frantic to reach the light that promised warmth and peace.
Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did, and she cried out, begging Reyes with words like please and stop and release me. His body held her down, his gift filled her, his scent surrounded her, smoky and cold and terrifyingly familiar.
Solana was lost to it, to the sundering. Another moment that broke her from one path and pushed her onto another. A divide of her soul that would change her forever.
Eventually the waters of his icy gift receded until all that was left behind was an achy tingle. A memory frozen into her bones and blood. An imprint to replace the one he had left before.
Reyes’s body bowed over hers, his shoulders heaving with every ragged breath. The hairs hanging over his forehead and eyes were wet from exertion, his chin tucked to his chest so she couldn’t see his eyes.
Carefully, she unwrapped a hand from his wrist and finally pushed her fingers through his hair. It was just as soft as she had imagined, and she gripped it as tight as her weakened hand would allow. “Did you know,” she started, the words just a whisper, “what the king was planning?”
His eyes bored into her, the black in the center almost wide enough to swallow the gray. “No,” he said firmly. “I swear.”
Solana let go of his hair and ran her hand down his cheek, the stubble scratching her palm, then to his neck, where she felt his pulse raging wildly against his skin, until her hand was like a collar. A threat. “Why am I here?”
“I was saving your life. The muki, it punctured—”
“No, Reyes.” They were so close, and his body was pressed against her, and whatever had been coursing through her veins during the fight and then the healing was fading away, replaced with a yawning loneliness that craved connection.
Touch. All she would have to do was press upward, meet him where he was.
Surrender. The thought gave her chills. “Why am I here, in the castle, on your team, under the king’s watchful eye? ”
Reyes froze for one heartbeat, two, his skin vibrating under whatever he was fighting, and then he pushed up and rolled away in one swift movement. He settled on the bed next to her, side by side, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the smooth gray ceiling.
Solana took in the details of her surroundings while her pulse slowed and the strange craving for him abated.
Reyes’s bed was more comfortable than hers, firm enough that she didn’t sink in but worlds plusher than the floor she slept on every night.
A fire in the hearth crackled softly, and everywhere she looked were books.
Splayed open on tables, stacked in corners, underneath the pillow, if her guess was right.
She reached up and slipped her hand beneath her head. Sure enough, a small notebook emerged.
Reyes snatched it out of her hand before she could open it and rolled off the bed.
His steps were quiet as he padded to the desk and haphazardly shoved the notebook into a drawer.
Solana tried to sit up, failed embarrassingly, and settled for rolling onto her side.
Reyes perched on the edge of the desk and crossed his arms over his chest, eyes darting over her face, her shoulders, the curves of her body.
Checking his handiwork, she told herself.
“It’s your blood.”
Solana glanced down and saw the dark spot on his green sheets underneath her middle. “I’ll buy you new ones,” she said. “Actually, you can probably afford them more than I can—”
“I don’t care about the sheets, Solana,” he said, a small smile caressing his lips. “That’s why you’re here. It’s why King Killian has been looking for you all this time.”
“My blood,” she repeated, unsure if she should be concerned or flattered, but relieved that it wasn’t because he recognized her, or worse—wanted to make her pay for her father’s sins. “Because I’m immune to demon poison?”
Reyes’s head bobbed from side to side. “Well, no. We didn’t technically know about that until the day we brought you in, but that certainly gave us more incentive, because an antidote really would change everything and—”
“Godsdamnit, Reyes, spit it out,” Solana said, but there was no venom behind her words. Her eyes were heavy, and she simply wanted to sleep.
“He wants to reverse the curse, and he thinks you can do it. Your gift, more specifically. If we can imbue himaya with your blood and create some sort of device, you could command the curse to leave their bodies.”
Solana snorted. She couldn’t help it. “And why does he think that?”
“I told him about how you can feel when a demon dies, the way that—”
“Of course you did. What a good dog,” she said softly, the hurt taking her by surprise.
Solana’s eyes were closed, but she imagined she could hear his jaw clenching.
“And what else did you tell him? That I can’t ride a horse?
That I question your every command?” She pulled her legs closer to her chest. “That I screamed and begged when you cut into me?”
“I only tell him what he needs to know.”
“So rebellious of you.” Solana smiled to herself, and then said, “It’s the dagger.
My gift, how I can command and kill them.
It’s all the dagger.” She thought of how Hakun’s sword had no such effect on the muki even when her hand was wielding it.
How any time she’d had any power, it was with that weapon in her hand.
“However it was made, it must have bonded to me somehow, but it has nothing to do with me.”
“I think you’re wrong, but there’s only one way to find out.
” There was a rustle of fabric, the scuff of a boot, and then the pressure of proximity.
A heat she had come to associate only with Reyes.
When she opened her eyes, he was crouched before her, elbows perched on his knees, staring intensely at her. Into her soul. “Work with me.”
Solana blinked at him. “What do you mean, work with you?”
“Let’s try to figure this out together. As true partners. Equals.”
The sincerity in his eyes was hard to ignore, but still Solana felt a sliver of trepidation.
“A truce,” Reyes added. “You can help me prove or disprove this theory, and I can help you leave Supay with a clean conscience.”
If she hadn’t recently nearly died, Solana might have spent energy arguing that her conscience was clean, thank you very much.
But it turned out that continuing to lie to herself was not in her best interest, and out of pure selfishness, she considered his offer and what it might mean if he was right.
It couldn’t hurt to know exactly what she was capable of, and perhaps accepting could be beneficial for more than just her.