Chapter 28
She was back. In a way, at least. She was in his arms; she was talking; she was here and he could finally, wonderfully, forget for a few moments that he had almost lost her.
Elric curled her a little tighter in his arms and tried to tell himself this was going to be all right.
But returning her soul? It felt like he was giving her the only assurance he had that he could keep her safe.
He had guarded it for so long, ensuring that death meant nothing to her, but… now it was back in her hands.
Now he had to endure the fear that at any point, she could die. And if she did die, then it was his fault for not continuing to keep her safe when he could have.
But he knew that he couldn’t keep her soul forever. Not when this was so important, and not when she had to become far more than a gravesinger could ever be.
“Do you want me to help?” he asked, even while knowing that his sister was barreling toward them.
Jessamine sighed. “Oh, I suppose so.”
Her little sarcastic quip gave him hope they would get through this.
That even after all the struggles and fighting that they had done, this wouldn’t be the end of all that they had known.
So he spread his hands above her and allowed his magic to pour forth.
In the old days, before witches and humans could create a god, he had always heard that a new god was birthed from an old one.
It was magic he didn’t technically know, but it still somehow poured out of him in this place where gods were born. Magic flowed out of his palms, coating her body in a sticky black ooze because that was all he had. All he could give her.
But just like in his realm, the moment the magic touched her, he could feel it changing. What was dark became shimmering with thousands of colors. And as she reached up to remove the ooze from her face, he could see it peeling away to reveal a new woman beneath it.
No, not a woman.
A goddess.
Her skin was porcelain smooth, but there were still cracks and fissures through it.
He could see them down her face where she had shattered, across her throat in the original wound that she’d survived, and down across her chest and arms. He had completely forgotten she was nude in his grip, but now he could see all that she had become.
She glowed with magic. Not dark like his own, but light and golden from deep in those shimmering cracks.
She was beautiful and deadly all at once.
Her hands curled into claws, her fingertips suddenly weapons of their own.
When she gasped, he could see tiny fangs in her mouth that looked wickedly sharp and dangerous.
She had become an amalgamation of all things that men feared about witchcraft and familiars. A woman filled with magic, pain, and all the vengeance of a woman scorned. But beautiful. Oh, she was so beautiful.
He stroked his finger over her cheekbone, listening to the sounds of the Huntress approaching them at an impossible speed. “Do you want to deal with her, or do you want me to?”
She felt a wild and wicked grin spread across her face. “Allow me.”
The pulse of magic that came out of her was nothing short of shocking.
He could feel it rumbling the ground they were on, and suddenly the Huntress was surrounded by sharp spikes that erupted from the gold.
They were gleaming in the meager light here, obviously with the intent to harm, and yet, the Huntress merely stood there with a snarl on her features.
“This won’t stop me!” his sister screamed. “Do you really think I will ever stop hunting you?”
“I know you will,” Jessamine replied. “Because I am your equal now. If you want me to prove how much stronger I am than you with a god at my side and a coven of witches at my beck and call, then I will. But we will summon you to the living realm, Huntress, and we will make you dance for us.”
He could see the words conjuring something in Jessamine’s mind, and suddenly, there were slippers on his sister’s feet.
Red-hot iron slippers that made the Huntress shriek in pain and leap into the air as though she were dancing.
In doing so, she impaled herself on one of the many spikes, straight through the shoulder where she dangled, screeching in pain.
There was no more need for them to stay here, no matter how much he longed to see what his sister would do next.
He slid his hand beneath Jessamine’s neck, lifting her a little closer to him. “Envision your body. Hold it close to your mind’s eye.”
“My body was destroyed.”
“It can be remade.” He hummed so low it was almost a growl. “I don’t know if I can come with you this time, Jessamine. You are no longer a gravesinger.”
But then he felt her wrap her hand around his neck as well, her grip a band of iron stronger than any shackle that had been placed on him. “I bound myself to you long ago, Deathless One. Nothing changes that. You will come with me.”
He could feel that command deep in his belly, as though there was a pull there which had never existed before, and suddenly he gasped as it tightened around his entire torso. A rope, a lead, something that should have not existed, and yet there it was.
This was different from the connection they once had as gravesinger and god. This was a tie between them that was unbreakable. It was a link between them, her soul and what was left of his, looped around each other.
She had bound them together. Forever, no matter where she was, he would be as well. Not a single god and goddess, but a combination of both.
She had no idea what she had done. At least, that’s what he told himself. But his heart knew that she had promised to keep him with her always, and now she was making good on that promise.
They materialized once more in the cave where they had both died, laid out on an altar like they were still a sacrifice. Yet now, everything was different. Everything had changed.
He reached up, scooping his hand under her hair and holding the back of her head so that she would let him look at her.
And look he did. In this realm, she appeared much the same as before she died.
Although now he swore he could still see those little filaments of gold where she had been pieced back together, beautifully and wonderfully broken.
“I know I’m not the same as I once was,” she whispered. “But what do I look like now?”
“Beautiful,” he replied, flexing so he could lean up and press a kiss to her throat. “Powerful. You look every inch a goddess.”
“Is that so?” She rolled her hips on top of his, and he suddenly remembered the other part of waking up as a god.
After dying, the body was filled with so much life that it was almost hard to think of anything else.
The vessel woke more hungry than they had ever been, more aroused than reasonable, thirsty, all the things that a body felt like it needed.
For him, he had devoured anything they had put in front of him for weeks on end.
He’d wanted nothing more than to eat until he threw up, and then he did it all over again.
Nothing satisfied him, until his body finally realized that it wasn’t going to die anytime soon, and it could relax.
But apparently, his nightmare was not hungry for food. Her hips rolled again, and her head tilted back.
Her dark hair fell like a waterfall over her shoulder, obscuring one of her bare breasts, and his mouth went dry. After each death, she became more beautiful. Every time she had died, he had thought so. But now?
Now he wanted to worship at her feet like all the supplicants who would come soon enough. He would be right there with them, crying out for an ounce of her attention, even though he knew he didn’t have to beg for it.
Elric slid his fingers up her ribs, following the fracture lines of a woman who had been torn apart, piece by piece, over and over again, only to knit herself back together in the form of something so wondrous she was hard to behold.
She let out a breathy moan as his fingers closed around her breast, molding it in his grip as he knew she loved.
Neither of them wished to wait. They had been without each other for years, it felt. And in truth, it might have been years that they were gone. But they were both alive. Both needy. Both yearning to slake their thirst on each other, and nothing would stop them.
He wasn’t even sure the cave collapsing on them would have stopped him from devouring her whole.
Arching, he splayed one hand behind her back and forced her to curve more into him.
The move bent her back over his arm, spreading her out like a banquet for his lips and tongue to discover new tastes and new sparks of magic that tingled as he traced his tongue around her nipple and then down into the valley between her breasts.
“Elric,” she whined. “I can’t wait for you. I need you, I’ve never… never…”
“It’s the magic,” he replied, lifting her so she could reach between them and align him at her core. “You’ve never been alive like this before, nightmare.”
And with that, he thrust inside of her. They both let out matching groans as their foreheads touched. She felt so perfect, like home. He wanted her to know that. He wanted to tell her that she was the safest place in the world for him, and that he loved her so damn much.
But then she braced her hand on his chest, used his body as leverage, and moved.
His eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the pace she set.
This wasn’t soft or kind or loving. This was fast and rough, raw and needy.
This was a woman reclaiming the life that had been stolen from her and deciding that life hadn’t treated her all that well.
She poured all her rage into him. Slamming down upon his hips so hard that it almost hurt as they kissed with teeth and tongue. A feral need rose between the two of them, bubbling and burning and aching until that was all he could focus on.
There were no words. Only the harsh sounds of their lovemaking as they reminded each other that they were both alive. They were both here.
And fuck anyone else who stood in their way.
He reached between them, pressing his thumb to that spot she loved. Her clit throbbed against his fingers, and then she came so hard around him he couldn’t even move. Didn’t want to. Fuck, feeling her clench around him like that was like he had become a god all over again.
A deep, guttural groan erupted from her chest, and it was a sound that he wanted to hear a thousand times as she came. She was beautiful. Her head thrown back in abandon, her dark hair sticking to her sweaty chest in coils that were still somehow graceful.
He was always so struck by her beauty. This resilient, impressive woman had no right to be his. But he would struggle every day to be worthy of a single ray of her light.
Gripping her thighs, he likely bruised her as he thrust up into her warm heat one more time before releasing within her. She was still clenching him, the aftershocks of her own orgasm running through her as he found his own pleasure.
Then she wilted in his arms. Like a flower that had gotten too much sun, she drooped onto his chest, laid out there even as he drew them back so that they were both lying down on the altar.
He held her close to his heart and allowed the feelings to wash over him.
“I thought you died,” he whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut, as though that would prevent the feelings from becoming too overwhelming.
“I watched you sacrifice yourself for me.”
“You splintered into a hundred pieces, and all I could think was that I wouldn’t be able to put you together again.”
She sighed. “Elric, this isn’t a competition.”
“It is.” He gripped both of her cheeks and turned her face up to look at him. “It damn well is when you insist on killing yourself over and over again. Stop doing that.”
“I’m not so sure I can die again.” Her cheeks were pressed forward, so the words came out garbled.
He didn’t know the answer. Gods were hard to kill.
Goddesses were wily as well, and the rules around the existence of their kind were hazy at best, but…
He gave her head a little shake, making it seem as though she was nodding.
“Just because you are now a goddess does not make you invulnerable. You will not take any more unnecessary risks.”
“I will do what I must to keep my kingdom safe.”
“I will tie you to this altar and leave you here to rot while I figure the rest of this out,” he breathed. “Stubborn woman, can’t you see I’m trying to keep you safe?”
She grabbed onto each of his wrists, forcing his hands away from her face so she could speak in a more normal voice.
“Yes, I can see that. But, Elric, can’t you see that I don’t want to be safe?
I want to fight. Don’t make it so I clawed my way back to the living realm only to sit on my thumbs and wait for someone else to do the work for me.
I am capable. I am powerful. And I will take my kingdom back. ”
He didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t want her to do any of it, not without knowing that she was alive.
A low growl rumbled through his chest before he shook his head. “Endless,” he muttered. “That’s what I told you you would become if you chose to be my witch. And now look at you. The Endless One herself.”
But then there was the soft sound of a gasp, and the crashing of ceramic against the stone. Both he and Jessamine glanced at the entrance to the cave, where Elissa stood with a broken pot at her feet.
“You’re alive,” she gasped again, pressing a hand against her heart.
And apparently, their quiet time together was at an end.