CHAPTER NINE #3
When she lifted her eyes to meet his, the rawness in her expression was too bloody much. He tugged a hand through his hair as she raked her gaze over the faded bruise from his brawl in Malheim and his bloody knuckles.
“Then tell me,” she said.
Though he knew it would be painful, he needed to reopen that wound from all those years ago.
With a deep, winded breath, he finally summoned his words.
“I’ve always vowed to protect you. To be there for you.
I wanted a life for us. Marriage bonds are rarely forged in love; they’re commitments.
A promise of devotion. It would have been the highest honour to spend my life at your side, to take care of you, and you don't know how much this … hurts.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. An unbearable silence stole across the room.
“You were always my best friend. You still are. At one time, I did think I was in love with you, but we were so young, and I didn’t know what love was.
My father insisted we marry. Thought it would be good for me.
And gods, he adored you, Emmery. I adored you.
And I do now. But not in that way.” His breath snagged as he said, “I wanted to love you. Gods, I wanted to love you so fucking much. I really did. I just—I didn’t know how.
I was a fucking moron. It’s been a century, and I still am. ”
She picked at her fingernails and sat with the silence and tension. Vesper didn’t breathe until she spoke. “We’ve always sort of butted heads, haven’t we?”
He laughed sadly. “You were always too good for me anyway.” It killed him to admit it, but it was true. If he wasn’t good enough for her back then, he certainly wasn’t now.
The silence grew deadly. “And how did I feel?”
Vesper studied his hands. “I think there was someone else. There was always something missing between us. You never looked at me like you loved me, but I think we’ve always been … drawn to each other? I can’t explain it.”
She gave a simple bob of her head, whether in agreement or acknowledgement he wasn’t sure. Maybe the draw was one-sided and something only he felt.
Then she padded over and stopped abruptly in front of him. It took Vesper by such surprise that his entire body turned to stone. She snatched his broad hand from where it rested on his knee and skimmed her thumb along his bloody knuckles. His lips parted and a strangled breath weaselled through.
“What did you do?” she asked, almost too low for him to hear, yet irritation rang in her tone.
“I gave those mirrors a beating,” he mumbled with a guilty grin.
“I thought as much. I’d heal them, but you wouldn’t learn your lesson that way, would you?” She sneered at her iridescent marks. “Also, I can’t. I hate these damn restraints.” She glanced behind her. “Where’s Briar?”
“Not sure. I haven’t seen her for a day or so.” Vesper studied his hand grasped in both of hers. He didn’t want her to let go. It was like she anchored him and all this time he’d floated aimlessly. “I’ve been a bit occupied.”
Her jaw set in anger and she dug her thumb into the split skin. “What’s that about? They’re Scarlets.”
He sucked air between his teeth at the sharp pain and squirmed beneath her condemning stare. “I—I don’t know what I’m doing.”
She snatched her hand away and stared at him for a tense moment as she chewed on her lip. “I need to ask you something.”
Vesper leaned forward in the chair. “Anything.”
“That book”—she nodded at the leather binding—“it’s not only a book.
There’s this man who’s visited my dreams. Zyphira claims he’s my implexus and that I need to find him to fulfill this prophecy.
But I don’t remember anything about him other than he has green eyes and his name is Shade.
” Her gaze narrowed on him. “You would tell me if it was you, right? And it can’t possibly be you. Tell me it isn’t.”
Incredulously, Vesper gaped at her before he bit down on his bottom lip to keep from grinning. “Emmery, dear, you’ve looked at me, right? You can see that I do not have green eyes. And I certainly don’t go by any name other than my own.” Aside from his useless alias at the Scarlet Palace.
“Damn it, be decent for a second and help me eliminate one person.”
“It’s not me.” He frowned. “You can’t remember anything else?”
Emmery shook her head. Sadness lingered beneath the gesture.
“Hey,” he said softly. He tilted his head to meet her gaze. “I wouldn’t worry. The gods have ways of bringing people together. I’ve heard implexus bonds are funny that way. You’ll find him. I’m sure of it.”
She shifted her weight from foot to foot, but didn’t turn toward the door.
“One more thing,” he said.
Emmery swiped a hand across her tired eyes. “Fine.”
“Promise me that in all of this, the prophecy and finding this man, you won’t lose yourself.
The gods may have carved this path for you, but don’t follow it if it doesn’t suit you.
Make your own path. Fucking claw it into the ground with your bare hands if you need to.
But be true to yourself. And don’t lose your heart. It’s what I love most about you.”
Her face screwed up but she turned toward the door. He reached for her. “Don’t go back with him. You can stay here. We’ll figure out how to get you out of the pactum and—”
“I can take care of myself,” she said, her voice low but firm.
Her walls were back up, impenetrable, as if he’d never broken them down—never banged on the door and picked at the cracks until they crumbled. He stared up at the barrier knowing nothing would ever be the same between them. And he was to blame.
Her spine stiffened. “I don’t need you. I don't need anybody. I’ve always been better off on my own.”
He stared down at his knuckles. The bleeding had stopped.
“You made me care about you. I trusted you. And you threw it all away.” Tears brimmed in her eyes as Vesper pressed the book into her hand.
“I truly think our paths were always meant to cross. You and I were meant to find each other in some capacity. With this prophecy—” Her jagged breath resembled a sob.
“But I just … I don't trust you anymore. And I’m not sure that’s something we can get back. Not after all this.”
Without another word, she spun on her heel and left him sitting there like the villain he never thought he would be.