Chapter 11 Aethra #2
He exhaled. “How could words possibly suffice?”
They wouldn’t. Watching the muscles in his back tense, I looked at him warily. “Am I safe with you?”
His eyes were fogged when he twisted to look at me. Pain tore across his face. I felt it within my thoughts, as though my own.
Seth started to speak. To tell me he’d never hurt me.
But he already had.
Biting his lip, he turned away, and I finished tending his wound in silence. Wrapping his shoulder with gauze, I tied it and leaned back, eyes drifting to the swirling black tattoo rising from his elbow to his shoulder, and trailing across his pec.
“Tattoos in Duath Nun mean something,” I repeated something Seraphim had said earlier. “What does this one mean?”
Seth traced the pattern. “Penthos. Mourning. Anyone who paints themselves with it gave a piece of their soul to another and lost it with their passing.”
He stood, testing the bandages. I looked away. “It’s for her, then? The woman you loved?”
“For her and my mother,” he said softly. “To immortalize them, and to remind me of my failure.”
“Failure to save her?” I guessed.
Seth turned his back. “You should get some rest. We’ll need to leave early.” Grabbing his cloak, he eyed the floor, searching for a spot to lay it out.
I shot from the bed. “You’re not sleeping on the floor with that wound. I will.”
He spun around, exasperated. “What kind of man would I be if I let you sleep on the floor?”
“That’s where you draw the line?” I asked, unable to hide the bitterness in my tone.
His eye twitched. “You’re hurt, too.”
Admittedly, I didn’t want to sleep on the floor. Everything hurt. Deciding I wasn’t quite that altruistic, I shrugged. “We’ll share then.” Limping to my side of the thin cot, I pulled down the sheet and collapsed onto the pillow.
Seth sat beside me, but I didn’t hear him lie down.
I opened my eyes to see him watching me. “What caused those bruises?” He asked.
“Ah . . .“ I sat up. The last thing Seth needed to know about was my torture at the hands of his father. Even if it was just a dream. “I was interrogated.”
Seth’s eyes narrowed. “Aethra . . .”
“He was convinced I was Elpis, and you were the prince. But I didn’t tell him anything.”
“Who? Do you know his name?”
“Icelus, I think.”
Drinking in the word, Seth committed it to memory. Setting his dagger on the nightstand, he pinched the candle, washing us in darkness.
I stiffened as I felt him lie beside me. My emotions stirred, creating another throbbing headache. I had no idea how I felt. Rolling on my side, I let my back face him.
“Was your home in Ikaria like this?” He asked quietly.
“It was about the same size,” I said. “This bed’s a little nicer.”
“ . . . and you really lived like that for years?”
“Yes.”
He fell silent. Fidgeting, I tried to get comfortable, but for how tired I was, sleep avoided me.
It avoided Seth, too. “I . . .” he said, shifting to face me. “I told you what happens to Elpis maidens. My father and I hadn’t fully fallen out when Cassandra’s magic manifested. She was married to my uncle, instead. The other option was a line my father wasn’t ready to cross.”
I kept quiet, listening.
“But he knew I was going to try and stop them. He had me locked away.”
“How did they find out?”
“Aeacus. Once upon a time, I trusted him. When I asked him for advice on what to do, he turned his back and revealed her secret to the world.”
No wonder he had so aggressively attacked the commander of the Hades Knights.
“Back then, I had no magic.” He exhaled shakily. “Aeacus became my personal keeper. Escaping from him, without any weapons, was . . . impossible.”
“He must have been something to keep you captive.”
“He trained me. Beating me half-dead was something he’d grown quite good at. But duties took him away one day, and . . .” He hesitated. “I finally escaped to find I was too late.”
Rolling over, I found his scarlet eyes in the dark. “I’m sorry.”
“My chthonic powers manifested that day. I used them to kill my uncle. And for that, I was exiled.”
“Who could blame you for that?”
Seth rolled onto his back. “Maybe if I’d given him a clean death. But when I saw him suffering beneath my spells, I couldn’t stop.”
Malice dripped from Seth’s words. I blinked hard, trying not to imagine the torture he must have inflicted.
“The manner of death is everything to us,” Seth continued. “I gave him—a god—a humiliating and agonizing end.” He exhaled. “And I’d do it again, in a heartbeat.”
I grabbed my elbow. “Was she the one?”
“Is it cruel to say no?” Seth stared at the ceiling.
“I’ve heard how people talk about their soulmates.
I don’t miss her like that. But I was in love with her when she died.
I should have protected her. And, I didn’t.
” He made a sound of grief that tore at my heart. “And I didn’t protect you, either.”
Tears burned at the corners of my eyes. I felt his emotions as though they were my own.
“You’re only human, Seth,” I said, wiping my face.
“By all accounts, I’m a god.”
“Well, you’re a really shitty god.”
He laughed, rolling his head to face me. His countenance shifted, and he stared at me for a long while.
“What?” I breathed.
I hadn’t realized how close we were until he exhaled, and his warm breath caressed my cheek.
“Nothing,” he whispered.
Seth always radiated heat like a furnace. Frigid cold gripped my bones, and I shivered. Pain traced through my bruises.
Resisting the urge to press myself against him, I looked down. “Don’t make it so obvious you have something heavy weighing on your mind, if you want to keep it secret.”
Silence hung over the room. I lifted my eyes, wondering if he’d fallen asleep.
Seth watched me with a steady gaze, his expression soft. When our eyes met, he reached for me, fingers brushing my cheek before he withdrew his hand.
Finally, he spoke, though it was hardly louder than a breath. “I love you.”
Taken aback by his words, I stared at him with wide eyes. My hand curled into a fist between my breasts.
Swallowing, he turned away. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I can’t trust you,” I whispered.
“I know,” he breathed, rolling onto his uninjured side. “Get some sleep.”
A war of emotions tore through my heart. Despite everything, I still cared about him. Shifting closer, I pressed myself against his bare back and took his arm, offering what little comfort I could. He grabbed my hand, holding it to his chest like it were the only thread keeping him alive.
Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the dark until I could make out the tattoos on his arm. I traced the swirling lines, hoping to lure myself to sleep. Maybe I was imagining it, but I could see the sorrow in their runes—like tears streaming from the heart.
Seth drifted off quickly, though his grip on my hand never lessened. I waited by his side until I was sure he’d fallen into a deep sleep. Carefully extracting my hand from his, I pulled the blanket up around him and slipped out of bed, pulling my shoes back on.
Patting my leg, I quietly summoned Whisper and slipped out into the dark hall, locking the door behind me.
If Seth woke to find me gone, I could claim I’d at least taken the dog with me.
Whisper trotted after me as I made my way downstairs and stepped out onto the porch. Finding a seat in one of the rickety wooden chairs resting beside a pillar, I watched the quiet streets, trying to place why I was so distraught.
Running a hand through Whisper’s fur, I breathed deeply, straining to forget the terror I’d felt at the prospect of losing everyone—the terror when I saw the armored horse clip Eleos and throw him to the ground.
But I couldn’t forget—least of all the helplessness I’d felt when Haimyx had loomed over me, slowly killing me.
Whisper sat up, hackles raised. Snapping to attention, I stood, ready to run inside and rouse Seth.
A single man crossed the street, but his head didn’t turn in our direction. Whisper’s hackles flattened.
Crossing beneath a lantern still burning with fire, the man’s features were illuminated for a fleeting moment.
An elegant toga revealed his wealth, and the embroidered cuffs and stylish boots hinted at his vanity.
A heavy cloak hung from his shoulders, drifting across the road behind him.
And though his face was not naturally handsome, his sharp nose, well-groomed short hair, and salt and pepper beard painted a handsome figure nonetheless.
Ainwir.
Gasping, I froze, watching my mentor leave the lantern’s bounds and return to the shadows. I couldn’t think, couldn’t twitch so much as a single muscle as he turned down a bend in the road, and I lost sight of him.
I’d been imagining things. Sleep deprivation and pain had driven me mad. A man had crossed my path, but it hadn’t been Ainwir.
It couldn’t have been.
My legs moved before my mind. Stumbling off the patio, I broke into a sprint, chasing after the specter of my past.