30. Chapter 30
Isat in the middle of the temple, watching as Malik stood and turned to look at the carvings on the wall.
"During the Black Shroud, someone, something, spoke to me, much like they have been speaking to you ever since I came back to Wellea," Malik began.
"It's no one of this earth, but someone of Divinity, I think.
A cool, almost calming voice, telling me that I was now part of a bigger purpose, that I was to be the opposite of everything the Mother Blessed were. "
I sucked in a breath, watching him as he walked around the temple. Myaella, that was the only answer.
"At first, I couldn't make sense of it. I thought maybe that the shock of the Shroud had me hearing things.
But when the darkness cleared, I looked below me, and everything was dead, rotted and shriveled as if there had never been any life there to begin with.
At first, I didn't understand, and I thought it might have been a result of what had just happened.
That would make the most sense, right? But when I stood and leaned against the wall to help myself up, the vines along the stone crumbled beneath my hand.
That's when I knew the voice was real, that this is who I was now, that this was now my purpose.
To rot, to kill, to bring balance to this world. "
I stood in disbelief. All this time, hurrying to save Rida from the rot, running and hiding from not only the mainland men but also the revelers, Malik was here, right alongside me, one of them.
And while I knew I should have felt fear or even betrayal, I felt nothing but sorrow. Malik had stood by me on this entire journey, watching my fear and horror of the creatures that had stalked us and my hatred for the rot, knowing his truth and not saying a word about it.
I felt nothing but shame at the revelation. He had done everything to comfort me, to push me through this quest I had been sent on, and never once did I stop to think about what he had been through.
Malik passed by me again, his eyes still tracing the carvings on the wall, unable to meet mine as he continued to speak.
"And then the Shroud cleared, and you were there, in front of me, the epitome of everything I could never be, and I couldn't stand it. I tried to forget it, tried to act like nothing had happened, but everywhere I went, everything I touched, died. And Lyra, I was so afraid—"
His voice trembled, my heart cracking alongside the rawness in his voice.
"I was so afraid I would eventually kill you.
I couldn't live with the thought, so I did the only thing that I knew would protect you.
I told my mother and father what happened, about the voice I heard, what she told me, and what it meant for you and the other Mother Blessed.
That is why we left—we made a promise to keep it between us.
My mother decided not to tell the other Mother Blessed to not cause panic, because we thought it was just me.
We thought if we just left, everything would be alright. "
I clutched the shawl around my shoulders as I listened to Malik, the memory of how I had felt that morning when I awoke and found him gone bubbling up within me anew.
But with the knowledge of what he had gone through, the missing gaps in the story I had needed for years now filled, the pain I had experienced now felt insignificant.
I had been so caught up in those hours after the Shroud, trying to fix all the destruction that I had failed to recognize the destruction closest to me—the suffering of my own best friend.
"I found new purpose in Uscal, despite everything," he continued.
"I made connections with the people there, helped them rebuild after the Shroud, and started to feel like I wasn't only capable of death.
Over time, I learned to control my powers, but by the time I did, it had been so long, and word of unrest on the mainland started making its way to our shores.
We had built something strong in Uscal, and I had plans to go to the mainland before whatever unease was happening made its way to the east. So, I kept my distance and stayed in Uscal, because I knew you would be okay and that one day I would get back to you, and that maybe we could pick up where we left off, because I knew, no matter what happened in our time apart, that I would always love you.
Which may have been a foolish decision. I should have come right back here when I was ready.
But I was so afraid of how much you might hate me if you learned what I had become. So I stayed away."
Malik turned to look at me again, his eyes shining with a vulnerability I had only seen a handful of times at that point.
While Malik never hid his true feelings from me, he always presented himself in a steady manner, always calm and collected.
But now, I could see just how deeply this had plagued him, how much it had eaten him from the inside out.
"I—" I stuttered. "I could never hate you, Malik."
Malik grimaced and shook his head. "You should, Lyra. You have no idea what I am capable of. I didn't want to drag you down because of what I was going through. I still don't."
My throat tightened at his words, tears threatening to spill over.
"You said I don't have to be perfect, and you don't either.
You thought I wouldn't want to stand beside you as you figured it all out?
You thought I wouldn't walk through the darkness with you?
" I could see the apprehension on Malik's face, the fear he felt at the prospect of letting me see all of him, even the parts of himself he did not want to face.
"You don't deserve that," he said. "You don't need to do that."
I brought my shoulders up to my ears, the tension and ache rising throughout my body with every word he said. "But what if I want to?"
"But you should hate me for what I've become."
I shook my head. "You didn't choose this. I can't hate you for something you didn't choose."
Malik approached me then, his hands cupping my face as he brought his forehead to mine, a deep, unsteady breath escaping him. The tapestry he wore now enveloped the both of us, forcing the small space of the temple we shared to become even smaller, our breaths mixing with one another.
"What if you end up hating who I am now?" I asked.
Malik shook his head as ran his thumbs over my cheeks, his eyes boring into mine.
"You're acting like I haven't loved you my entire life. Like I haven't always loved every part of you. Like I haven't loved you before I even knew what the word meant."
I clutched onto him then, his torso firm under my hands as I pressed myself closer.
"Then let me love every part of you," I said. "Even the parts you want to hide."
Malik swallowed, his hands beginning to tremble all over again.
"You aren't going to hurt me, Malik," I whispered.
"I know, but I'm still afraid. I've been afraid ever since I returned."
I placed my hands over his, forcing warmth into them. "Tell me. How did you learn to control it?"
Malik hesitated for only a moment before peeling himself away and looking at me as he answered.
"I let it define me for a long time. I thought that's how it would always be.
That I would always be at the whim of what this power wanted me to be.
I walked around just waiting for it to happen, for me to accidentally kill crops or a small animal, or worse.
I eventually stopped doing anything out of fear.
But then one day, I just . . . got so frustrated that I decided I would not let it control me.
I went back out into Uscal, still fearful, but every time I felt it rise within me, felt death try to crawl its way out of me, I would stuff it down.
Every time I saw the beginnings of the rot, I would stop in my tracks until it went away.
Eventually, I think my own power became afraid of me with how fiercely I faced it.
I still have moments where I can't catch it in time, but it's not like it was right after the Shroud. "
I was quiet for a moment, taking in his words. In a way, I understood what he had gone through, how terrifying it was to feel so out of control that it took over every aspect of your being.
"Can you show me?" I asked, crouching down to sit on the floor once again, drawing the vines that lined the temple towards us, coaxing them up and into my hand before holding them out to Malik.
I could see the hesitation in his face, how much he didn't want to share this part of himself with me. "It will be okay," I said softly.
He eventually nodded, coming to sit next to me on ground, reaching out towards the vines I had drawn into my hand, their stems shriveling and becoming limp and slick at his touch, any and all life becoming void.
I could feel the shift in the room as Malik exercised his powers, could feel the way the rest of the foliage in the room seemed to shrink back from his presence. Even the air in the room went still, fearful of what he was capable of.
"This is what I am, Lyra," he said softly, disgust lacing his voice. "This is all I will ever be."
I looked up at him, studying the man I had missed for so long.
"You didn't choose this. You are still my Malik, and you were so much more before this, and you will continue to be so much more after."
Malik released a sigh before grabbing my waist and pulling me onto his lap. Our limbs tangled, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, no longer holding back, only wanting to be closer to him.
"If things were different, if you weren't married when I came back to Sorrel, what would your answer have been?"
A part of me relaxed at his question, because I had known the answer the moment he asked me in Sorrel, even if I could not act on it. It hadn't changed over the course of our journey, and it wouldn't change now.
"Yes," I whispered. "It would have been yes. My answer was, and still is, yes."
Malik pulled back and looked at me for just a moment, his eyes searching mine for any hint of doubt.
And when he didn't find any, he pulled me closer, one hand weaving in my hair while his arm around my waist tightened and pulled me to him as his mouth found mine.
I don't know what I expected, as I had never let myself think of the moment Malik and I were reunited in this way. The possibility of such a thing never seemed possible, but a gasp escaped me when his mouth met mine, his answering moan sending a thrill through my body as my lips settled over his.
It was as if every sleeping part of me awoke in that moment, my body slumbering since the day he left Wellea.
I pressed into him, moving to brace my legs on either side of his hips, wrapping my arms around his neck, desperate for closeness as he kissed me deeper, his arms pulling me impossibly close to him.
"I've loved you for a long time, Lyra," he said as he broke for air, his pupils blown wide in the dim light of the temple.
"And I've always loved you," I answered.
He brought his lips to mine once more as he lowered us to the ground, hovering above me and pressing me into the stone of the temple floor. I surrendered to him, arching up, desperate to feel more of him.
His lips left mine, and I gasped as he worked his way down my throat, his hands running along my waist and down my thighs, igniting every part of me that had longed for his touch all these years.
"Every day while I was gone, I thought of this, missed this. You don't know how it's tortured me, Lyra."
Malik continued his path down my body, leaving no part untouched, whether it be by his hands or his mouth.
He skated past my waist on his journey, his cheek caressing my legs as he pulled them apart.
I trembled under his touch, the anticipation of it all too much.
I could feel him everywhere, every part of me alight with awareness.
Malik bit at the soft flesh of my inner thighs, my hands curling in his hair at the sensation, needing him closer and not wanting him to stop.
Malik smiled at the response I gave him, that even after all this time, he still knew my body better than anyone.
I coaxed him back up and skated my hand down his chest while he settled his hands on either side of me, taking in the plains of his chest that had been honed over the years.
Where lithe muscles once sat were now corded layers of power that he now pressed atop me, his weight satisfying the heat that grew deep within me.
But it still wasn't enough. I want to feel surrounded by him, as if there was no escaping him.
Malik's lips found mine once more, anchoring my mouth with a hand clutching my jaw, kissing me with the hunger of years of anticipation. Each kiss was deeper than the last, as if nothing was enough.
He pulled back and looked at me then, his eyes glazing over at the sight of me wanton and breathless beneath him.
"I can't hold back any longer, Lyra," he said, his voice gravelly with need.
"Then don't," I breathed.