CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
EMMERY
Emmery left Brennen and Aera sleeping in Dez’s bed and wandered down to his garden, hopeful that she’d feel him among the noxcore.
Clutched to her chest was the note and a vial full of unknown liquid Fionn had given her.
All he’d said was Dez wanted her to have them.
Fionn had been made to return to Blackdawn Castle to deliver them in anticipation of Dez’s return the following day.
They couldn’t have predicted that Thellonius would intercept Dez, that his father worked with the Council all this time, and that everything would go to shit so quickly.
Moonlight flooded the garden like the night they’d promised their lives to each other. She could hardly believe that was only days ago.
The noxcore bloomed for her but sang a sad tune, as if the flowers could feel her loss.
She couldn’t enjoy them without him here.
Nothing mattered anymore. Everything was—fuck, it all lay in ruin.
As she perched on the bench and studied the spot Dez would have sat, the gaping black hole inside her widened.
Helplessly, her mind sank back into the moment before Dez’s eyes closed forever.
That bright, forest green. If she squeezed her eyes shut she could almost feel his warmth.
Smell the mint on his breath. Hear his laugh.
Pretend they lived in some fantasy where he hadn't been stolen from her.
Her fingertip traced her name on the envelope in the same writing imprinted in her skin. The only bond that didn’t slice her down the middle and sever her soul. But no pain could compare to the aching absence of him.
Carefully, she slid the letter free and held her breath as she read.
A sob bubbled up in her throat, but she clamped a hand over her mouth to contain it. If it got loose, got free, it would never be caged again.
When she finally got a grip on herself, she examined the vial of iridescent liquid.
Her heart slowed when she uncorked the top and sniffed the contents.
Between the scent of vanilla, mint, fire, and ice, and the colour, she could think of one thing it could possibly be.
And how Dez had done it, she had no clue.
Her pulse raced as she stared into the vial’s depths. Though her heart ached and her world lay in shambles, Dez had come through on his promise.
She never should have doubted him.
Without hesitation, she put the vial to her lips and tipped her head back. The warm liquid kissed her tongue and her vision blackened.
The khaos flame devoured a Stone of Refraction, and a face appeared in the flame with honey-gold eyes full of vigour and life, silver hair like moonlight, supple pink lips laughing and smiling, and—
He’d never been superficial, but this woman embodied perfection. Though he hadn’t a clue who she was, or could be, he had to meet her to understand the vision’s purpose. And somehow, he felt in his bones that if he actually looked into her eyes, it would all make sense.
He would seek that nomad Oracle and strike a bargain to find her. If this woman’s future was tied to his, no cost was too great, even if he didn’t know her name.
???
He’d always despised these long wretched things. Between the white ribbons, red delilahs, and the same unimaginative phrases, the votai ceremony would surely drone on for eternity. He stretched his neck and willed this to end, but his heart rose in his throat as he spotted her.
Her silver hair tumbled down her back in waves, and her green dress—
Fate’s take him. That was a unique brand of torture. Her honeyed gaze crashed into his, not with recognition, since they hadn’t been introduced, but with an unspoken challenge. Gaze narrowed, she stared him down. He cocked a brow back at her.
She placed her hands in another man's, yet her eyes remained locked with his. His heart wrenched toward her and, like a brick struck him square in the chest, breathing became an impossible feat.
Surely this was punishment for overstepping and playing god by taking his own fate in his hands. It had to be. Gods were cruel, he’d learned as much from his mum and brother’s untimely, sadistic deaths.
A notion needled his brain, a truth he couldn’t be more sure of, and it fit the thinly-veiled carnage of his life: he’d lost this woman before he even had a chance to know her name.
???
For weeks, he’d avoided her with intense precision, because it was all he could manage. Besides, he was promised to another, and they would be family.
The mere thought twisted his insides into knots.
Even so, he plodded on, walked aimlessly through the days, dragged his feet through the nights, and existence blended into a festering mess of disappointment.
Yet his ridiculous weak heart beat on, and his chest uselessly filled with air. It was just empty.
???
Perseverance had always been overrated. Because he couldn’t watch her dance, touch, and kiss Merikh. No logical sense explained why he’d practically run from the ballroom. It was all some ludicrous misfiring of his brain. Maybe he truly was descending into madness.
Because they were nothing to each other, absolutely nothing, and he had no right to feel this way. They hadn’t even exchanged a polite greeting the day of her and Vesper’s engagement. And that was months ago.
To get away from it all—the ball, the expectations, how he didn’t fit, and his fragile future—he wandered into the hedge maze. He refused to hope for anything. It had never gotten him anywhere before.
The maze seemed to close in on him, and he walked under the blanket of night, no stars to guide him, and his breath lingered out of reach.
It was like those carriages. Those chambers.
The closed in walls, the darkness, the slow devouring of space until his chest convulsed.
He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to rein himself in, to grasp his floundering control, and—
A prickle on the back of his neck stalled his panic. He frowned, then spun.
His heart sank as he took in her forest-green dress, flawlessly moulded to her body. Though she had no vestige, she glowed as brightly as a star. Like the stories his mum had told him of the fallen angels.
She viewed him inquisitively, cocking her head to the side in a way that was both adorable and held such authority he nearly stepped back.
“Are you lost, angel?” he asked, his voice steady though his insides quaked like a bumbling fool.
“I could ask you the same thing. You’re the one out here alone,” she said.
She pursed her lips and looked him over, as if seeing him for the first time, though that wasn’t true.
Because somehow their eyes always seemed to find each other in any room.
She continued, “Are you alright? You sort of ran from the ballroom and you seem … distraught.”
“Never better.” He cleared his throat and shook everything he wouldn’t allow himself to feel loose. He knew he should dismiss himself and return to the party. Play nice with Izora. Put on the performance his father expected from him.
But he didn’t.
Her brows pinched. “We haven’t been properly introduced.” She extended her hand to him, a slight tremble in her fingers he didn’t miss. “I’m Emmery.”
She gave him a shy smile, and the moonlight became her backdrop, an ethereal grace that made his breath catch. In that moment, he was truly convinced she had to be an angel. And she’d offered her name in three perfect syllables, like a piece of herself she wanted him to hold.
He took her hand, and his knees weakened. “Dez,” he offered back.
Rather than subject themselves to the party, they fell into easy conversation. She spoke of her mortal mother and sister, this strange new world, and she made jokes, she challenged him. At the night’s end, his cheeks ached from smiling.
He’d never met someone so pure and untainted by the world. In his mind, he made a vow that he would do anything to protect her. Even if she wasn’t his.
And he felt, deep down in his gut, that they would tumble into one another, time and time again. Because he didn’t fall for her. There was no slow descent.
It was a reckless, absurd, and unavoidable plummet.
???
Every time felt like the first. Her silken hair between his fingers, her velvety skin against his, and the incomparable taste of her lips. She smelled of vanilla and amber and something hot. Something powerful.
And he’d become a mindless, helpless addict.
She lived in his thoughts, his heart, his mind, and though she’d invaded every waking moment of his day, he would gladly give her every second.
Cut off his arm if she willed it. Crawl across broken glass merely to see her lips lift in a smile.
He’d planted a whole garden of noxcore simply because they always bloomed for her.
They knew all these nights sneaking around in the garden and in his bed were sure to damn their souls, and yet, they couldn’t stop. He’d even kept their secret tryst from Brennen, and they told each other everything.
That night, as they lay in his bed, he thought of the future, and how he could possibly do right by her. How they could shape this terrible situation into something tangible. Something real.
Because he needed it. He needed her.
Emmery glanced up at him, breathless from pleasure. He took one of her flushed cheeks in his hand and skimmed his thumb along her cheekbone. She really was something else. Extraordinary, brilliant, gorgeous, soft, kind, and tenacious. Completely and unfairly perfect.
No amount of words could do her justice. No one fulfilled him like she did. She spoke the same language that swam in his blood and had always been fluent.
“Why are you staring at me?” he asked. He pulled the quilt over her bare shoulder and held her tighter.
Her soft body moulded to his, like the sea met the shore.
A smile crept onto his lips, because when he looked at her it was impossible not to.
“I can hardly blame you, but do let me in on the secret.”