CHAPTER TWENTY #3
He cleared his throat and continued, “I’m actually here because I couldn’t sleep. I felt guilty about earlier and came to apologize. It seems I’m doing that a lot these days.”
Unsure what to say, Emmery fiddled with a loose string on the quilt.
“I never wished to be unkind to you and I overstepped.” Destonne watched her fingers with keen interest. “I admit it’s too easy to get caught up with you sometimes.
Teasing you. The way your cheeks burn and you—” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I shouldn’t have done that. You have my sincerest apology. ”
Baffled, Emmery managed to reply, “Thank you.”
A war battled in his eyes as he asked, “I have to ask, did you write what was in that binding?”
That caught her off guard. “I did.”
“It’s about his book right? But how you felt about it?”
Mortified, she bobbed her head in agreement.
Destonne worried his bottom lip with his teeth, and unable to look away, Emmery fixated on his mouth.
Something came over her, maybe because he’d apologized, or maybe she could blame the darkness and seduction of night that swathed them, and how she didn’t want to feel so pathetically alone anymore. Either way, she stared.
As if he felt the tension too, he cleared his throat. “Does your Shade no longer visit your dreams?”
The question hit her square in the chest and she squeezed her eyes shut, as if she could hide from her answer.
She hadn’t realized how much she missed Shade until now and it sprang on her like a predator waiting in the brush, sinking its claws into her until her breath turned to a sob.
“I haven’t seen him since my last night at Castle Dusk,” she said.
She considered telling Destonne about the weird dream but thought better of it.
“I don’t know if I will again. In our last interaction it sounded like he wasn’t coming back. ”
To her surprise, Destonne bowed his head and reached behind his neck to unclasp the crystal he always wore.
He gathered the chain in his palm and extended it to her.
“I have nightmares too, or I should say I did. I don’t dream when I wear this.
” He rolled the crystal with his thumb. “Maybe it’ll help you. ”
Emmery eyed it like a dagger. Why would he offer this? What was he getting out of it? And for all she knew, it could be a trick. Yet something in his dark gaze told her he authentically extended his help. But if she used it, what would he do? “I can’t take that from you. It’s yours. You need it.”
“Think of it as a loan.” Gently, Destonne took her hand and pressed the crystal into her open palm. “I need you to sleep so you’ll be rested enough to get in the water. Though I have to point out that you did swim today.”
As he closed her fingers around the crystal, it hummed against her skin. The magic soothed an ache she hadn’t realized was there, and he was right, he’d gotten her into the water today. Destonne always challenged her. Always pushed. That much she could admit.
“I don’t know what to say,” she murmured. But if it would help her sleep she would try anything.
“You could say thank you. And I'm still waiting on that gift for my spectacular swimming instruction.”
Emmery snorted. “You may wait forever.”
An impossibly long moment passed between them and neither of them dared to move, caught in this rare understanding. This fragile comradery.
He cleared his throat and asked in a low voice, “Make me a promise?”
Gods, he sounded like Vesper. These men and their promises. She couldn’t decipher his expression in the threaded moonlight.
He went on anyway, “Promise me you won’t make yourself sick again. Promise you’ll use it.”
To make a show of it, Emmery sat up in bed to clasp the crystal around her neck. The chain was a bit long on her and the obsidian crystal sat low between her breasts. It hummed against her skin, calling to her and begging to feast on her dreams, and she would give it every opportunity.
“Don’t lose it. It’s one of a kind, and I gave up a lot to get it.” He stood and stared down at her. “I would wish you sweet dreams, but I think sweet abyss is more fitting.” He strode to the door and tapped his fingers on the doorframe. “Oh, and check under your pillow.”
He winked then vanished from sight before she could reply.
Emmery frowned, but as she slid her hand beneath, she found the familiar bristle of paper at her fingertips. She pulled a book from under the pillow. It was a new copy of the novel that was dropped in the water. And he had marked all the pages she’d dogeared—
Wait, how did he remember which ones she’d marked? And there were other ones from further than she’d read. Her face burned, and burned, and burned, as she thumbed through the ones he’d marked.
Emmery slammed it shut and shoved it back under her pillow.
She fell back onto the bed and held the crystal between two fingers.
As she twisted it in the moonlight, it glittered like Destonne’s eyes and she found herself smiling like an absolute fool.
She faded into sleep with it clutched in her hand.
Thankfully, no nightmares or dreams at all visited her that night.
Sweet abyss was right.