Chapter 32
thirty-two
. . .
Aten
Explaining to my best friend that his twin is dead must be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
His silence cuts me as if he were holding the Ciro knife himself. I can’t give it to him, as it’s still with her, a mark of the tradition, but I’m able to give him her Transference ring.
The knife had Fenix’s blood on it. It was what she killed him with, at least that is what we had first thought, until Kalan dropped his own twist on us.
Crimson never trusted him, and despite everything he had done, it was hard to believe him, to build on that shred of trust when he kept half his views in the dark.
“What can I do?” I ask grimly. Calix is the joker, the gambler who never takes things too seriously, but that persona is gone. He’s the one who always knew how to help me, even when I didn’t know myself. And now it’s my time to pay him back, I’m lost.
“There’s nothing to do. I wouldn’t have been able to stop her.
We both know that. She knew what she was doing.
” His words are clipped and hard as stone as he bites them out.
“She also did it for you. For us. She always believed that we would fulfil the promises we made as children. She wanted us to be a Triune, you know that.”
I did.
“Don’t hate Ever,” I start.
“I’d never hate her. I saw how devastated she looked, even though she wasn’t Crimson’s biggest fan. You went to get her back. I wanted to go with you, remember? I’d have been there for Ever, for all of you, but you all…” He shakes his head. “Ever isn’t who I’m mad at.”
“Cal—”
“Tell Kyra where I’ve gone. But I want to be alone, Ten. I need… to be alone.” He grips the ring in his hand, a match to his own, and stalks off into the woods. I let him go.
The horses are happily grazing in the clearing around the side of the cottage, tied to a branch.
Kalan’s left the bags and supplies under the tree, but there’s no sign of him.
Not the welcome he might have been expecting, but then again, maybe it was.
Lyle was furious with him before we left.
Her hurt was immense, and not the type of pain to easily forget.
I grab the bags and head back towards the cottage.
They don’t have a stable, and I wonder if Nettle is still here. It would be nice to show Ever a friendly face.
I take stock of the little house with the flowers in the small planter outside the front window, and the strange assortment of goods and items laid out on the table as I peer inside.
Calix will be okay. He will.
As I enter the main room and look through to the sitting room, I see Kyra’s still with Ever. But Ever is standing by the fire looking startled, nervous maybe. The colour that was only just returning to her since her days of being unconscious has leached out of her skin once more.
“What is it?” I ask, my eyes locked on her.
She looks at me, meeting my stare. I’ve seen that look before. The fear engulfing her eyes until they are flat and void of light. It’s the same look she had in the training ring back in Nehandun.
I wait for an answer. But it doesn’t come.
“Ever wants a bath. Can you help with that, Aten?” Kyra chips in.
I don’t answer and wait for Ever, my gesture telling her I don’t need to talk into her mind or sense her emotions to know that there’s something wrong. But she just shrugs, brushing whatever has put that look on her face aside.
“A bath would be amazing, Ten. Not cold water, but warm. You should have one too. Your treatment back in Nehandun was far worse than mine.”
“If I draw you a bath, then will you tell me what’s put that look on your face?” My temper flares because she is hiding something. It clearly isn’t good, and she’s keeping it to herself to spare everyone.
Her eyes widen before she puts a shield over her expression, and she doesn’t tell me.
Fine.
“Fine. I’ll have one after you. And then we’ll talk.”
Despite the additional numbers in the house, it’s quiet. Kyra’s vanished. Calix hasn’t come back, and neither has Kalan. So, I go about the task of carrying the heated water to fill the small tub for Ever.
It’s a simple, albeit time-consuming task. I hadn’t considered what people do to accomplish basic things like bathing with hot water outside of the magic of Kirrasia, and the Naturals and Elementals who see to the running of The Court, keeping fire’s burning, lamps lit, and water hot.
Ever didn’t know magic before arriving, so Lyle obviously didn’t use her magic here. Being outside of the towns or villages where there might have been support from the Kirrians sent to ensure peace and prosperity, they would have had to work at everything. They knew no difference.
“Is it ready?” Ever sneaks up from near the fire.
“Last one.” I pick up the copper pail and walk it into the washroom, pouring it into the tub.
“Thank you.”
She shifts past me and holds my eyes for a moment before closing the door behind her.
I wait in the small sitting room adjacent to the washroom and tend the fire. Stand. Sit. And despite my best intentions, I drop my shields to check on Ever.
Gently, I cast the web toward the door and beyond, sensing for anything from Ever, but there’s nothing, as if she’s not even in the room. I’ve always been able to feel her, so I push a little harder, forcing my magic to respond.
I’ve practised this. I’m good at this, yet there’s nothing.
My heart begins to race, thudding in my ears, and I creep towards the wooden door and place my palm against the wood and try again—still nothing.
“Ever?” I call out, but there’s no answer.
My hand is on the doorknob, and I’m opening the door before I can rationalise the situation.
Her knees are poking up at one end of the bath, and as I step closer, Ever’s darkened tresses swim over the surface of the water, camouflaging the rest of her. I sink my arms into the water and pull her up.
“Hey,” she splutters. “What was that for?”
She blinks water from her eyes and scowls at me with a familiar fierceness that brings me to my knees, literally, next to the iron tub.
Relief crashes through me, closely followed by a host of wicked thoughts that have no right to be flitting into my mind.
Ever continues to stare at me while pulling her hair back and out of her face, and I let my heart stop its rapid beating, taking in the fact that Ever is breathing. She’s well. She’s right in front of me.
“Ten?” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“I’m sorry.” I swish my hand through the water, sending ripples lapping at her skin. “I couldn’t sense you, couldn’t feel anything, and I panicked.”
“You panicked?” She smiles, and it cracks my fucking heart. “I was in the bath.”
“Under the fucking water, and I couldn’t feel you, Ever.
” My temper snaps, no longer able to keep it trapped down inside.
“I had to pull you from the river only a couple of nights ago. You were unconscious for days. I’m not going to apologise for checking you’re still fucking breathing.
” I’ve been in a constant state of fear for her, for all of us.
I don’t care if she is only on the other side of the door.
“I’m okay, Ten. I promise.” She takes my hand in hers and squeezes, pushing some calm back into me.
I reach out with my power again, desperate to feel something from her, and there it is, warm and pulsing, a sense of calm from Ever.
It’s not as potent or strong as any of the other emotions I’ve so readily picked up, but I’ll take it over the void I felt a few moments ago.
She lets my hand go and kneels up in the tub, the water cascading down her creamy skin. It’s a feast for my eyes, and she shows no sign of hesitancy at being this exposed to me.
“You’re healed?” My voice croaks as I take in the plains of her soft skin.
The same skin Fenix forced me to stick and cut with my blade.
My jaw clenches with the force I shove around that memory, desperate for it to shrivel and die.
I built a fortress around any memory of hurting Ever. They are not welcome between us.
“I am.” She takes my hand and moves it along the dip at the side of her stomach where one of the worst of her injuries was. The pad of my thumb skims over the soft skin, feeling only a tiny rise where the wound knitted back together is now evident.
“Unlike you.” She looks up at me, the light illuminating the stars in her pale green eyes, banishing any thought of darkness lingering.
She’s here. Safe. And so fucking beautiful.
Her arms run around my neck, trailing water in their wake. But that’s all. No surge of pain, no stutter of images or visions. Just us.
It sets my pulse racing for every good reason I can think of, and I watch in rapture as Ever’s skin begins to cool. I suck in a tight breath, forcing myself to be patient.
Before Nehandun, I’d have relished every single touch or slide of my hand over her and been ravenous. Now, with nothing between us, no barriers, no flare of magic, we have an opportunity, and I don’t want to fuck it up.
“You’re wet.” I look down at the water dripping from her hair.
“You’re not.” Her hands move towards my shirt, pulling at the buttons and sliding them loose. She pushes the material from my shoulders, happy to let her run her hands over my skin as she exposes more and more. And there is nothing but the feel of her skin against me.
No pain. No heat. No need to shield. And I smile, eager to embrace this.
In my mind, my own images play out before me. Ever’s body, her breasts, her fingers as she played with herself at my command.
Stars, please. I send up a little prayer because after what we’ve endured, we deserve a few minutes of bliss.
Her hands continue to explore, pulling me in closer to her, but they pause, stopping at each mark or scar she finds. She might have inflicted pain with the sword, but her lips now seek out every single slight against me, and she kisses them away, lapping her tongue over the raised marks.