Chapter 17
Being in the castle was easier than not.
Elric didn’t complain about their other circumstances, because he’d known that it wasn’t something they could change.
After all, the first place anyone would look for a missing princess was a castle.
It was only realistic that they should hide in barns and the like.
But he was a god. He was much more used to being spoiled and living in the lap of luxury.
Most people begged him to stay in their best room, and even if there wasn’t a best room, they would find a place for him.
At least, that was how it had been the last time he was alive.
He’d been worshipped, glutted, and then sacrificed.
A never-ending cycle of pleasure before pain.
Maybe this time was better. Even if that meant he had to live in barns for a good portion of the time he was alive.
Still, the castle was significantly better than any other place they’d stayed.
Better even than the coven house, which now housed all their members who had their souls ripped out by the God King.
And he had designed that home. Of course, he could admit that might be part of why the castle was so much nicer.
Mortals were better at creation than gods.
They had good reason to create. Their lives were ending so fast, it made their artistic ability simply better in every way.
He stood on a parapet looking down at the beauty of this kingdom and took in a deep breath of fresh, salty air.
The gardens were wild as far as the eyes could see, untamed because no one had overseen them in months.
Vines overgrew the walls surrounding the castle that went right to the cliff’s edge where Jessamine had first been killed. Where her wedding had taken place.
Rage simmered in his chest at the mere thought.
He enjoyed standing here, surveying the area where he would have killed Leon Bishop if Elric had been present at that wedding.
He’d have stalked down the aisle himself, popped the man’s grapelike head between his palms, and then married her himself as they stood in all that gore.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have such violent thoughts looking at such beauty. Imagining what might have been certainly didn’t change the past. So he focused instead on the sights laid out before him.
This was likely the first time he’d ever had the luxury to appreciate this kingdom. Elric was always so embroiled in witchcraft that he felt he had only seen the darkest parts of Inverholm.
But now? Now he was able to see it from a different light. One that was both beautiful and terrible. He could get used to this life. Far too easily. It was all he wanted, if he was honest with himself. He didn’t want to live in hardship anymore.
Unfortunately, part of that hardship was the coven he had built for himself. Sometimes the witches would fall silent when he walked past them, hungry eyes watching his every move. And that made his heart race when he was anywhere near them.
Footsteps pounding down the hall behind him snapped him out of this reverie. If he wasn’t careful, they would see all the thoughts on his face. He knew Jessamine’s footsteps. The others, however, sounded suspiciously like quite a few of the other coven members.
He turned and leaned against the railing. Soon enough, they marched into view, a wall of women with determined expressions on their faces and intent in every stride.
“What do you want?” he asked before they even reached his side.
“We have an idea,” Jessamine announced, as though that wasn’t clear by the way they had all stalked up to him.
“Yes,” he murmured. “Obviously, nightmare. Out with it.”
“We all had the thought that the gods have been killed before. Which means they can be killed. If we can figure out the original spell those witches used, then we can do it again.”
No, this was stupid. She should have remembered why it was stupid.
While she was still talking, he looked behind her to try to find Sybil in the crowd.
That kitchen witch also should have remembered there was a good reason why he wouldn’t agree to this plan.
But she wasn’t among the group, which meant she had to not have been involved in this stupidity.
“Elric, are you listening to me? The gods have been beaten before, and there’s no reason to rewrite the past. We can use what they already figured out.”
“I’m not having this conversation with the entire coven. I will have this conversation with my gravesinger and no one else.”
A redhead in the back made a disgruntled sound. “Isn’t that always how it is? You have a coven, not just the princess.”
He had been waiting for a reason to snap, and this was the perfect reason. These witches thought him too weak right now. They didn’t give him the respect that he was due as their god.
Lunging forward, he reached for the one who had spoken.
But he didn’t grab her by the arms or the shoulders as she clearly expected.
He plunged his fist into the fissure of her chest and ripped out the remaining magic that was there.
It was more than he expected. The heart-sized darkness he held in his fist wrapped tendrils around his wrist, leaking onto the ground in wet plops as the redheaded witch let out a wretched sound.
“Listen to me, witch. You are only strong because I made you so. You are only here because I allow you to live. You may be thinking back to the old days, and that you once sacrificed me, but you have forgotten that your people only did so because I allowed it.”
He knew he must look rabid. His hair had fallen in front of his face, and the snarl that twisted his features wasn’t an expression he usually wore.
But these witches needed to recall that he was not some toy for them to play with.
He was dangerous. Beyond what they could conjure up in their dreams. In the middle of the night, they should fear that he was lurking in the shadows, as all the people in this kingdom used to fear.
The redhead trembled before him. Her face had gone white as snow, and the ragged wound in her chest started to bleed.
“What is happening to her?” the blonde beside her asked, reaching to help her stand.
“Without magic, a witch returns to what she was before. If I remember correctly, you joined this coven because you were very, very sick. I saved your life by giving you magic. You would do well to remember that.” He lifted the dripping mass in his hand, staring at it before he looked back at the redhead. “Do you want this back?”
She nodded violently.
“Do you think you’ve earned getting it back?” Some part of him wanted her on her knees before him. He wanted her to beg. He wanted to see some modicum of respect before he returned it to her.
But then a small hand touched his hip, and he was reminded that this was who he used to be, not who he was now.
Jessamine reached up his arm and gently took hold of the mass with him.
Together, she drew their hands into the cavity of the redhead’s chest and forced him to release the blackened energy he had ripped from her.
“Go,” Jessamine said to the coven. “I will converse with the Deathless One and return to you with his decision.”
They all ran from him as though hounds bit at their heels. Perhaps the hounds were him, because he wanted to tear at them with his teeth, just to see their blood decorating the floor.
“What was that about?” Jessamine asked him once they were alone.
“What do you mean?”
“You aren’t usually so…” She hesitated, likely seeing the expression on his face that warned her he wasn’t interested in what she was about to say next. “I just worry about you, that’s all.”
She was worried. Of course she was worried. He had reacted like that out of the blue, and she didn’t know that he’d been struggling for a while now.
Elric shook his head. “They wish to sacrifice me. I find myself angry at the suggestion.”
“I will not let them sacrifice you. They speak from a place of fear, which is why I thought their plan was a good idea. The other witches killed the gods. Surely we can do the same?”
He hated that she looked at him with so much hope. She didn’t remember what it was like in his realm, or why the gravesingers were trapped there.
Stepping into her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her against his chest. He leaned against the railing, allowing her to rest on him as he dashed all her hopes. “Jessamine, the gravesingers were the ones to kill the gods.”
“No, the gravesingers killed you. They gave their lives so that the plague wouldn’t be as bad.” She frowned up at him. “Is that not the entire story?”
Elric tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, gently trailing his fingers along her jaw. “Did you really believe they only killed me, Jessamine? Why would they all give up their lives just to kill a single god, when all the gods had failed humanity?”
Her face crumpled. This was what he hadn’t wanted to see. The disappointment. The anxiety and fear that swelled up at the realization that they hadn’t figured out a new plan. Or perhaps that they had, but it wouldn’t have the ending that she wanted.
“No,” he said, before she could even say it. “You are not going to die so the rest of them can live.”
Those big eyes stared up into his, and he knew what she was going to say.
“If that’s how it has to be to keep everyone else safe, how could I do anything other than that, Elric?
If a single person has to die for the rest of my kingdom to thrive, it is selfish to think of saving myself and killing the rest of them. ”
Anger already boiled in his veins. He couldn’t stop himself. One moment, he was staring down at her, and the next, both of his hands were wrapped around her throat. He lifted her close to his lips, holding her steady so that she would not only hear his words, but breathe them in.
“You are not going to kill yourself, Jessamine Harmsworth. I have prevented you from dying multiple times now, and I will not let you go. You do not have my permission to die.” He squeezed her throat a little harder when she tried to speak.
“Oh, don’t argue with me, nightmare. You do need my permission because you are just as much mine as I am yours. ”
He dragged her closer, sealing with their words with a brutal kiss that was as bruising as it was a desperate bid for her to understand the feelings rolling inside of him.
He needed her to know that without her, there was nothing.
The world was bleak without her in it. If she was gone, then he would destroy it all.
He allowed her to pull back just enough to place her hands on his chest. “Elric.”
“No. You do not get to be a martyr, Jessamine Harmsworth. I will bring you back from the dead a thousand times if I must, but this kingdom and all those lives will not be the reason we must part.”
“It’s the right thing to do.”
“There is always another way.” The words tore out of his throat, perhaps a little more ragged and frantic than before. “Always.”
She was still thinking about it. He could see it in her eyes. She was trying to figure out a way to die while he was still alive.
He kissed her again, feeling desperation bleed into every single touch. “Please, nightmare. Please don’t leave me here alone.”
That was the only thing that seemed to get through to her. Her gaze softened, her lips were more plush against his, and finally she kissed him back with enough hunger that some of the anxiety in his chest eased.
“Of course,” she whispered against his mouth. “I’m sorry, Elric. I shouldn’t have frightened you. That’s the worst-case scenario. It won’t come to that.”
“There can be no chance of it at all, my love.”
Because he refused to lose her. He refused to see her die while he remained here.
Even if she hated him for it. Even if she never wanted to see him again, knowing that she was still alive would keep him going. He would make this world a better place for her and only her.
He kissed her again, urging her against his body so he could feel her. He didn’t want to let her go. Not yet. Not until he was assured that she was still here, and she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Elric,” she whispered between kisses. “You’re scaring me.”
He was scaring himself. The thought of losing her shouldn’t make him feel this out of control. It shouldn’t make him so afraid that he couldn’t function, and yet, here they were. He couldn’t even breathe through the fear of it.
“Jessamine,” he finally said, pulling himself back from her to stare down into those dark eyes. He dragged the scent of her into his lungs as though it were the only way to keep it.
He was terrified that he would forget these tiny details that made her so beautiful to him. If she was gone, if she did this without his permission, then he dreaded what would happen in the end.
With their connection lost, there was nowhere he would be able to find her. Death would send her into the realm there was no coming back from. He wouldn’t be able to get her. Didn’t she understand that? He couldn’t save her another time, and if he couldn’t save her…
“There has to be another way,” she said, forcing his attention back to her. “There has to be a way to save all of us, Elric. The witches killed them before. Surely that meant there was another option that they looked over?”
“You won’t let this go, will you?”
“Not a chance.”
He sighed and dropped his forehead so he was pressed against hers. “Then I will bring you to the last known place where the gravesingers practiced. I do not know if you will find any answers there. But there’s a chance.”
“A chance is all I’m asking for.”