Chapter 45
TRISTAN
Inever really had a lot of good in my life.
Perhaps it just wasn’t a luxury I could afford.
Though, I did grow up with the love of my mother, found in every corner of my castle, woven into every book left behind, and breathed to life through every single daisy that grew along the rotten soil I lived on.
But, even with the knowledge of what she had done in my name—the war she waged, the curse she cast upon their successors—I still had to live with the reminder of the love I lost the day I was born.
I spent my entire life avoiding my own reflection, even created a mask to hide behind—the poison my father unknowingly left with me. Every episode, every spasm and pain I felt as it continued to spread, left my mind bitter and my soul even weaker.
Love.
What really is love?
Is it a choice? Is it something given to you? Could you materialize it and hold it in the palm of your hand?
Is something truly real if you can’t see it?
Even with Malakai and Mara at my side for so many years, something had burrowed inside of my chest, leaving a hollow, empty loneliness that nothing seemed to fill.
That was… until she happened. Until I heard her cries in my own dreams and found a purpose in my life. Morrigan was that purpose. Every single one of those nightmares gave me something to strive for—her happiness.
Maybe putting the weight of my world on someone else wasn’t healthy, but it saved me in a time that I didn’t know I needed saving. Just the few interactions with her over the years dulled most of the pain from my father’s power lingering inside of me.
I wasn’t sure if it was love. But when she slammed into me in my bedroom, and I got to really see her eyes for the first time, it felt like the world crashed at my feet.
I was a child again, my heart fluttering like I had been running for miles.
And when she kissed me? I realized in that moment that there was no end to this world, or the next, that I wouldn’t go to in order to protect her.
And as I stood before her, those same striking blue eyes hid a blazing fire behind them, and I realized that I was never meant to protect her, because she never needed my protection.
Here she was, a mortal, risking everything and more… for me.
It will work, I thought to myself. It has to work.
She looked up at me then, and I realized that she had heard me. Instead of responding, she slipped her hand into mine, the soft warm skin in perfect contrast to my own. The single gesture was enough to calm the bout of nerves that had my darkness stirring.
“Alright,” Mal said with a nervousness in his voice that only I could recognize. “First, we’ll bind you both. Hold out your left hands toward each other.”
None of this was actually necessary. We could have gone straight to the blood sharing, and the ritual would have been completed. But I wanted this. I wanted Morrigan to know that this wasn’t about the light. It wasn’t about the bond. This was my confession to her.
That there was nothing that could change the fact that I was utterly, remarkably, and hopelessly in love with her. Even if I couldn’t find the words to say it yet.
Morrigan went first, and I met her halfway.
Before our hands actually touched, Malakai placed the obsidian between us and squeezed our palms together.
The sharp edges dug into my skin, and I pressed my lips together at the instant pain that flushed across my palm.
I could see the slight flinch in her eyes as she felt it too, but she kept her composure.
“The left hand represents a direct link to our hearts. With the obsidian between you both, you hold the life of the other in the palm of your hand.” Malakai began wrapping the thick rope around our hands, tightening it with each loop so that the obsidian pushed harder into our skin.
“Repeat after me: Cor meum, vita mea, mors mea.”
We both repeated it in unison: “Cor meum, vita mea, mors mea.”
As if called to her, my shadows slowly crept down my arm, pouring from my markings until they wrapped around Morrigan’s hand. In response, Morrigan’s veins began to glow, and a single flame slipped over my hand, the tendril licking at my skin without burning it.
“Una anima,” Malakai whispered.
Again, Morrigan and I repeated it together: “Una anima.”
I allowed my shadows to merge with her fire, tangling itself in knots, and the sensation shot a heated rush down my spine. Morrigan must have felt it too, because she audibly gasped and unintentionally gripped my hand tighter, which caused us both to flinch.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the blonde one, Dez, take a couple of steps forward. Malakai quickly shot him a glare, stopping him.
“Your princess is fine, lord,” he called to him. “They are not normal people, as you may have noticed. In order for their souls to merge, so must their light.”
After a couple of seconds, Morrigan let out a sigh of relief as my pain faded as well, and Malakai began unbinding our hands. Something tickled the side of my face, and I reached up to touch it, only to be met by Morrigan’s wide, beautiful eyes.
“They’re fading,” she laughed in what sounded like amazement. “Oh, Gods, Tristan! It’s working!”
“We aren’t done,” Malakai reminded her. “We have to finish it soon, or it will reverse.”
He moved behind the table, picking up one of the chalices, and then handed the dagger to Morrigan. “You’ll need to fill the cup halfway, at least.”
Somewhere behind her, Kaiden seemed to gravitate closer. I could sense a thicker tension since last night. I knew he had visited her—I know everything that happens in this castle. But a sadness seemed to loom in the air once he had left, a sadness that likely had to do with me.
Kaiden would never agree to this. He would never accept me. To do so, he would have to set aside his pride, which he had clearly inherited from our father.
As much distaste as I held for each of them, I could come to overlook it for Morrigan’s sake. Even if I wanted to, I’d never be able to convince her to give them up. She had already grown natural bonds, deeper than that which the gods had created. They were family to her now.
Maybe… I could benefit from a family, too.
Morrigan winced as she cut her palm, but took it in stride as she swallowed the pain, and squeezed her hand over the chalice.
Once it was filled high enough, Malakai pulled it back, and I instinctively grabbed her wrist, letting my shadows cover the wound.
With just a fraction of my light, I poured it into her skin until the wound stitched itself back together.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her cheeks slowly creeping to a light blush.
“Tristan will drink first,” Mal announced, and I kept my eyes on Morrigan as I brought the cup to my lips, feeling the warmth of her blood on my tongue.
It tasted so sweet in my mouth… so pure. I had only tasted blood a few times—when one of my episodes drained too much of my light. It was always Malakai’s, but his tasted nothing like hers. I could almost understand why some of them may have lost their self-control with it.
Morrigan watched me with heat in her eyes, like she enjoyed the sight of it, and that same heat dug into my chest and settled at my core. It was hard not to imagine what it would feel like to taste her blood while she was lying beneath me, as I felt her skin against mine…
Once I finished it, I couldn’t bear the tugging sensation any longer. I dropped the chalice onto the table and pulled her against my chest, crashing our lips together in a kiss that made me feel starved in every possible way.
“Might I remind you that children are present?” the brooding brunet lord called from somewhere nearby.
I groaned as I pulled away, and Morrigan smirked up at me. “Patience,” she said quietly.
“Hard to resist, right?” Dez laughed before I heard a thump. When I turned, I found the redheaded giant shoving his shoulder. “What?! Come on, it’s a soul bond, people. This is as permanent as it gets. We’re gonna have to get used to this at some point.”
When I returned my gaze to Morrigan, I saw her looking at Dez with the purest smile I had seen since she arrived. Her eyes practically glimmered in his direction. And I realized then that… maybe love could be seen.
Could I get used to this? Would I be able to watch her kiss one of them like that? I didn’t exactly have a choice. She was my choice.
“Your turn, Tristan,” Malakai said, handing me the empty chalice.
As I cut my palm, I allowed the blood to drip down into the cup and squeezed my fist hard to fill it faster. I needed to keep the wound open long enough so that I wouldn’t have to make another cut. Once it was filled halfway, I handed it to Morrigan.
“Almost done,” I whispered to her.
With a soft smile, she accepted the chalice and brought it to her lips. She closed her eyes as she drank, and I wondered what it tasted like to her. Did she feel the same heat coursing through her belly? Did she want to touch me just as badly as I needed to touch her?
It didn’t take her long to finish it. She placed the chalice down, and the deep, crimson color along her cheeks told me all I needed to know. “What now?” she asked, her pitch slightly higher than normal.
I don’t care what your lords do, I said to her, breaking through every mental barrier to make sure she heard me. But I’m going to drag you back to that room and bury myself inside of you in approximately ninety seconds.
She let out a laugh that she tried to stifle with her hand, while some of the others looked at us in confusion. I hoped that none of them would ever get to do that with her. I wanted it to be ours—our secret conversations together.
“That was the last of it!” Malakai exclaimed, letting a breath of relief slump his shoulders. “Good news, princess, you didn’t—”
Malakai’s words were interrupted when Morrigan began to cough. Every single eye turned in her direction as she tried to clear her throat.
“Sorry… That was weird... It’s nothing, I’m just—” She coughed again, and this time, blood sprayed from her lips onto her hand. Her eyes shot wide, and every bone in my body turned to ice. “Get Azrael out of here right now.”
“What’s wrong?” the boy asked, moving closer to Morrigan.
As she turned away from him, Malakai reluctantly snatched him up and began walking out of the throne room. I could see the struggle on Mal’s face with each inch he put between Morrigan and himself.
“Wait!” Azrael yelled. “No! Stop, Mal!”
“Sorry, little wolf. It’s past your bedtime,” Malakai said curtly, dragging him out as the boy twisted in his arms.
Morrigan had her hand covering her mouth as they left, and the second the doors closed, she hunched over. Blood spilled from her lips so violently that I could feel it in my own chest.
“Morrigan!” I wrapped my arms around her. “Gods… Morrigan… I—”
“What’s happening?!” Dez asked with a shaky voice. “Is this… Is this a part of it? I thought he said we were done!”
“No.” I wasn’t sure who answered him. They kept speaking to me, but I could barely hear any of them.
Morrigan lurched again, and I felt like my own blood had begun to drain from my body each time it fell from her mouth. “I-I’m sorry…” she cried, clutching my wrist with her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
She ripped away from my grasp and began stumbling back before her foot slipped, and I watched her fall.