Chapter 18
DARCIE
My eyes fly open with a ragged gasp, I press my palm to my chest to hold in my thundering heartbeat, staring with blurry vision up at the ceiling.
Sweat rolls down my temples. At the same time, I shiver, freezing. Pins prick my legs. I cannot move.
I’m dying. I have to be dying.
A panic attack traps me in its vise-like grip. Then—
“You’re back.”
I blink. It takes an extra second for me to turn my neck.
Des sits at my bedside. He’s dragged over the chair that normally sits by the door.
My heartbeat increases.
“Y-you.” I pause to take a shaky breath, steadying my voice. “You knew that I’d…I’d already…done it.”
He nods. “I assume you saw the part where your mother sensed you in my head?”
“Yes,” I whisper. My thoughts spin as I try to understand how it could be possible to view the past when I’d already done so, but after never trying it before.
I groan and squeeze my eyes closed, desperate for something—anything to make sense.
“What happened?” I ask. “After my mother threw me out of your head?”
“A bit of an uproar, but nothing Lome couldn’t handle. Alex and I came right here after learning of your latest trick.”
Trick makes it seem innocuous…easy.
It certainly doesn’t feel that way.
I sigh and meet Des’s gaze. “That was…strange. I didn’t think going back in time would put me in your head. I’m sorry if that was intrusive.”
“That depends.”
“On?”
“Did you hear any of my thoughts?”
My brows furrow. “No.”
“Then it wasn’t intrusive.” He reaches and gathers one of my cold, numb hands between his, working warmth back into it by rubbing them together. “I find your ability fascinating. I’m curious what else you can do with it.”
“You and everyone else.” I scoff. “I bet Thane is already trying to figure out a way to use me to his advantage.”
Des’s hands still. “Thane is suffering and not acting like himself.”
“I know that—”
“But I will not let him use you against your will. I promise.”
I lift my eyes.
Sincerity greets me.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
He dips his chin, then resumes rubbing our hands together. Soothing sparks tingle my skin.
I study the strand of hair that hovers over his forehead, resisting the urge to push it back and caress his face.
My fatigue is lowering my guard, but I need to pull it together.
“Is there a reason you’re here?” I ask.
“What?”
My cheeks flame, but I press on, staring at his strong fingers pressing against mine.
“You told the others to leave. That you needed to talk to me. Was it just about the cognizant thing, or…”
I trail off, kicking myself for leading us to yet another embarrassing conversation. Why can’t I just be normal?
“I wanted to check on you and make sure that you’re okay.”
“Someone else could have done that.”
“I have told you…I care for you.”
My stomach twists.
Yes, but then you insisted on staying away from me.
I shake off the thought and the conflicting, confusing emotions that always come along with trying to figure out Des and his motivations.
“Right.” I clear my throat. “So, my mother is a witch from the Nightsbane clan. And, apparently, she’s powerful.”
“That she is.” Des releases my hand, only to gather the other and warm my cool fingers. “Which confirms you will be immensely powerful as well.”
I chew the inside of my cheek. “What do you know of the clan?”
“Not much. Charmian keeps a tight leash on her offspring. The clan fears and reveres the Council too much to break our laws and force our interference with their lives.”
He shifts in his seat.
I get the sense he’s not saying something.
I dip my chin to meet his vibrant green eyes. “What is it?”
He blows out a breath. “I dislike your mother’s condition for helping the alliance.”
“You don’t want her to train me?”
“I don’t want the Nightsbane clan influencing your magic,” he counters. “Or manipulating what you will do with it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t trust them.”
I ask again, “Why not?”
He releases my hand and sits back in the chair. His eyes shift back to hazel. “Because I don’t know them. Neither do Thane, Lome, or any of the other Originals except Charmian. She has isolated her offspring from us. They are a mystery.”
“Why would she want that? I thought Immortals were allowed to interact with their offspring.”
“They are. I don’t know Charmian’s reasons. Perhaps she simply wished to protect them from being pulled into our conflicts.”
“She’s pulling them in now,” I point out.
“Because we are desperate. Thane weakens every day without Bella. We need the Nightsbane clan’s help to find her before Adir makes his next move.”
“Of course.”
I scold myself for worrying about such minor things when Bella is out there somewhere at the hands of a deranged Original Immortal.
Then, without warning, a gut-wrenching thought comes to mind. I wince.
“Darcie?” It’s Des’s turn to notice I’m holding back. “What’s wrong?”
I should lie.
I should dismiss the question now and forever. It’s none of my business.
But it hooks beneath my ribs, pulling tight. And I blurt, “Do you or your brothers have offspring?”
Adir, Julisanna, and Charmain do.
But the other six Originals are a mystery.
The brothers and their wives don’t have children, but what about the centuries before they met Eshe and Bella? Did Lome or Thane create life?
Did Des?
How have I never wondered this before?
Give yourself a break.
You’ve been a little busy learning that Immortals exist, being abducted, and developing powers because your long-lost mother is a witch, while your mortality is allegedly changing.
“No.” Des clears his throat, and the faintest pink hue colors his cheeks. “My brothers and I are the only Originals without offspring.
Relief loosens my shoulders. “Oh.”
Good.
“It’s a shame, really,” Des continues. “Thane and Lome would both make great fathers.”
But not him?
I swallow. “Bella told me it’s more difficult for Immortals to conceive than it is for humans and Immortals.”
He nods. “Yes.”
“Why is that?”
Why would the Creator bless the brothers with their Ones, only to prevent them from having families?
Des shrugs. “I suspect it is a natural limitation. The Creator may not wish for powerful Immortals to be created outside of his influence.”
I stiffen. “Except me.”
Des’s lips turn down. “Yes…except you.”
We look away from each other.
I stare at the French balcony doors, wishing they were open and that fresh air could help clear away some of this awkwardness.
“I am sorry.”
Slowly, I turn back to him. “For what?”
“Your pain. This upheaval in your life. The fact that your mother has come back into your life under these circumstances. Coming between you and your boyfriend.”
Warmth builds in my chest with each word that passes his strong lips.
Until the last one.
My jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
His face is annoyingly void of emotion. “Eshe has informed me that you and the mortal boy are no longer together. I…apologize for any role I played in that.”
I should just accept the apology and change the subject.
I should ignore the pang of frustration that stabs me in the chest.
But I can’t.
“I broke up with Kevin for many reasons,” I say, voice shaky. “It wasn’t just you.”
The muscle in his jaw ticks. “So you are saying if Thane never found you in that library, if you were never thrown into our world, you would have broken up with the mortal?”
“Stop calling him that,” I snap. “And stop acting like this.”
“Acting like what?”
I wave an angry, trembling hand in his direction. “This. You’re repentant and then indifferent. Dismissive, and then you make out with me.”
My cheeks heat, but my ire grows with each breath I take. I keep going before Des can interrupt.
“You stay away for weeks after insisting that we can’t be together. Even though we both know what we are to each other. And I am so tired of it.”
I shake my head and continue. “You don’t want me. I get it. Message received and accepted. Now, I just need you to stop being so damn confusing while I’m already dealing with everything else in my life.”
My chest heaves as I suck in breaths.
Des stares at me, mouth slightly ajar, until he snaps it closed. “It was a mistake to bring up this conversation.”
“Clearly.”
His stare lingers.
I meet it, refusing to back down. Refusing to let this confusing Immortal weasel his way into my thoughts any more than he already has.
He’s made his position clear.
I’ve accepted it.
The honorable thing for him to do would be to leave me in peace so I can figure out every other aspect of my tumultuous life without worrying about my connection to an Original Immortal who doesn’t want me.
“I didn’t intend to pick a fight.”
Some of my anger abates. “I know.”
“Despite what you may think, I do care about your well-being.”
Tears burn the back of my eyes. “I know that, too.”
He stands. “I will leave you to recover. Though I suspect the others will be in shortly to see for themselves that you are on the mend.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, resisting the nagging urge telling me not to let him walk out like this—insisting that we should clear the air.
Des remains at my bedside, gazing down at me with an expression I don’t try to decipher, but there is no missing the turmoil flickering in his hazel eyes—turmoil that I’m certain matches the storm in my own eyes.
He leaves without another word.
And I let the tears fall.
I’m caught in the middle of an Immortal War. My mortality is changing, and my magical powers are awakening, causing me indescribable agony.
But my relationship with Des, if I can even call it that, is undoubtedly the most agonizing problem in my life.
We’ve gone from strangers to forced allies, to willing allies, to potential lovers, to whatever the hell we are now in such a short amount of time.
Every step forward is followed by monumental strides back.
Every flicker of hope is extinguished under his fancy boots.
I can’t do it.
I can’t stomach making myself vulnerable to him. Not again. Not anymore.
So, I fight the desire to call out and summon Des back to my side—to demand he and I make a final decision on how to handle our connection going forward.
To demand that he no longer kisses me.
That he no longer holds my hand.
That he doesn’t stare at me with those soul-breaking emerald eyes.
Because despite what the Creator intended, Des and I will not end up together.
Our future rested on Des’s shoulders for weeks, and he has carried it away, never intending to pursue it.
And I just have to accept that.
There’s no other choice.