CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE #3
“You could have returned to Castle Dusk,” he said, surprisingly gentle. His brows creased. “Vesper was more than willing to take you back. He said so himself.”
Emmery slowly shook her head. “I couldn’t.
Not after how we left things. After what happened, Vesper and I need time, I think.
Maybe forever. I don’t know. And I don’t know how to navigate this world.
It’s still new to me and—” She broke off before she could voice that damn loneliness that saturated her soul.
Desperate to pull the attention from herself she asked.
“So, what are you going to do about all this? What’s your plan for Asaella? ”
Destonne rubbed his chest right above his still heart. “I’m afraid you may have to wait for those truths. But retrieving my magic is a key component.”
“You can’t leave things this way,” she pressed. All the problems swelled in her mind and beat with a steady pulse. “You can’t—”
“And what would you do, Emmery? Hmm?” Destonne tilted his head. “Since you’re so full of insightful answers.”
Everything inside her screamed to take action.
Did he not feel it too? “I would fight. I would sacrifice for my home, my family, everyone I love, and give until I had nothing left. Scrape my soul raw if that was the cost. If I had something to fight for, people who loved me—” Her voice broke and she swallowed her surfacing darkness.
“There would be nothing in this world that could stop me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give. ”
His gaze softened. “What do you mean if people loved you?”
She wrapped her arms around herself and shrugged.
“Don’t say that,” he said gently. His brows narrowed and his hand twitched as if he wanted to take hers. To soothe her confession that had sliced through her like his thorns had all those weeks ago.
Slowly, she shook her head. “Nobody loves broken things. They tolerate them. They’re used and depleted. And when they can’t be fixed, well, they’re just … thrown away.” And he would toss her aside, too, when their pactum was complete.
From his silence, he clearly didn’t know how to respond, but something in his eyes flashed in recognition. Like the words she’d spoken echoed inside his hollow parts as much as they did hers.
To push through the awkward quiet, she said, “Since you gave me an extra truth, I’ll offer one of my own. If there's something you want to know.”
He sat with the offer, stewed in it as if the ask he really wanted was out of reach, but he would stretch for it anyway. He stared past her at The Nameless Book on the nightstand. “What’s your plan once you find your Shade?”
The question caught her off guard. She needed her memories first, but permitting that went well, Zyphira had only told her to find Shade, not what they would do after.
“I’m not entirely sure,” she admitted. “All I know is we’re supposed to—” She almost couldn’t admit it aloud, with Destonne’s likeliness to dismiss it and claim its absurdity.
“We’re supposed to fall in love. And then everything will fall into place. ”
Destonne stared at her for an infinitely long time. Searching. “So, what? Marry. Have relations with him. Bear his children and run off into the sunset. That will cure this fever?”
Emmery glared at him as fury scorched her from his assumptions. “You asked and I answered. What I do with him isn’t your concern.”
“I’m afraid it is, with the fate of the world in your hands.
I quite like living and don’t want to see my people fall to this fever any longer.
” He swiped the back of his hand across his brow.
“But I wish you luck. Truly. Implexus bonds are, in a nutshell, asinine. I would hate to see you blend into his shadow. You burn too brightly for that.” He snorted and stood from the bed.
“For all you know he could be some grotesque pig. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised. ”
Just like that, he’d ruined the whole bout of truth and honesty bridging them by being himself again. Gods, a conversation with the man was like riding a wild stallion—sure to give her whiplash.
And how dare he talk about Shade like that.
Sneering, Emmery shot back, “He can’t be more of a pig than you.”
A bitter laugh rumbled from Destonne. “You’d be so lucky to be stuck with me.
At least I would—” He clamped his mouth closed and strode to the door.
His fist thumped the frame once, twice, and on the third, he turned back to her.
“For what it’s worth”—he struck the doorframe once more—“I’m glad you stayed.
But you’ll be happy to hear we’re leaving shortly.
Brennen and I are making arrangements tomorrow.
” Glancing at the candle melted down to a stub and wax pooled in an exhausted puddle, he added, “I hope you get some rest. Goodnight, Emmery.” He left the room.
She stared at the door and sat with all she’d learned again, not sure how to sort or process it.
How Destonne fit into her life now. Because she’d been honest when she said the two of them were alike—they’d both done terrible things, both never had a true home, and they both justified their actions in their own twisted minds in an attempt to mend this broken world.
Emmery sat back against the wooden headboard and gently knocked her head. “What do you think, Fionn?” she asked. “Should I trust him?”
The hand slipping into hers stole her breath entirely.