Chapter 68
Chapter sixty-eight
Seraphina
She was screaming, and he was dying.
Over and over. Falling off the cliff where they’d watched the sun rise over Plaranina, stabbed through the heart, roasted alive in a vat of molten lava, and every time, she’d tried to save him and failed.
Over and over, it played in her dreams—a new kind of nightmare.
Sera startled awake, only to be met with the scrunched brows of the man she’d just watched be crushed to death hovering above her.
“You shouldn’t have nightmares, Subdina.”
“Well, tell that to Shadow. Isn’t she the one who controls the dream realm?” Sera rubbed her eyes.
He chuckled. “Shadow hasn’t been answering prayers for a couple of thousand years.”
“What are you talking about? Where does our magic go, then?”
He shrugged, then bent his head down to nuzzle her neck. Unable to help herself, Sera purred under him. They’d slept all night together; still, it wasn’t enough. Apparently Vasso thought so too. The brush of his teeth down her throat was enough to send her writhing.
“We should stay here.” His lips dragged against the skin above her collarbone. “I’ll build us a castle, just us…”
Now that was a dream. One in which she could see herself so clearly.
The two of them together, laughing over a glass of wine, reading books, her screaming his name while he took her under the rising moons.
Shadow, she wanted it. Maybe that made her a bad sister, but to be free of responsibilities without guilt? A dream.
“You know fate has other plans,” she said.
Vasso sighed and rested his chin on her chest. Those moons-gray eyes smoldered into her. “Have I ever told you how much I hate prophecies?”
Sera tucked her chin and kissed his forehead. “Vasso, as much as I’m enjoying the sight of you between my tits, I really have to pee.”
Reluctantly, he lifted himself off her.
It was bright outside—brighter than it should have been for the morning sun. She left the tent to relieve herself, then returned to a new pair of black leather pants folded on her cot. Underneath was an intricate reinforced corset with shoulder protection. Vasso was nowhere in sight.
“He thinks of everything, doesn’t he?” she said with a smile.
Snik stretched and yawned, leaving her to change in private.
She slipped the corset over her head. The leather was pliable, the fit snug, but it was thick enough to prevent someone slashing through, at least on the first swipe.
It covered her stomach and chest, making her feel like a warrior, and she admired the detail on the shoulder pads.
The flap of the tent lifted, and Snik walked in holding a black raven feather.
Shit, Raven.
She’d forgotten entirely about her familiar.
But the more pressing question was why Dominick hadn’t yet sent word back.
The Citadel must be a flurry of activity.
The Legion preparing for war, the streets bustling with nervous coven members.
She’d never been exposed to the city in war mode and could only imagine the chaos.
Sheathing the two daggers Alistair had left her at her hips, she clasped the enhancer to her palm. Today they’d enter the Deadlands, and she didn’t want to be unprepared ever again.
In the sunlight, Vasso was tying on forearm braces that matched her leather corset. “Last night you looked like a river goddess, but today you look like a general.” His eyes roamed over her body. Heat rushed to her cheeks.
“I didn’t think the rivers had goddesses.”
“There have been many deities on Eraphon. Most have lost their following and have abandoned us. But I promise you this… you would outshine all of them.” He approached and lifted her chin. “Have I ever told you that I love it when you blush?”
The heat across her face doubled. “You know, Lord Vasso, I think you envision me as some innocent maiden. I assure you, I’m more experienced than you think.”
His eyes flashed red. Then he kissed her, and the shiver of pleasure that went through her had her pressing into him. His lips were like velvet, and the way he breathed her in had her wishing she’d taken him up on his offer to stay.
“Delicious,” he murmured into her mouth.
Sera giggled and pushed him away. “How are we going to get to Port Sidnah? Ponic and Navine ran off in the storm.”
Vasso smiled. She caught her breath at the beauty of him. He whistled, and heavy hoofbeats pounded in the distance.
The elken king crested the knoll. “He says you may call him Hondor.”
“Nice to see you again, Hondor.”
“He says he’s happy to see you as well.”
“It amazes me you can speak with them.” Hondor’s fur was silken between her fingers as she petted his shoulder. He was a magnificent animal.
“You learn a lot when you’ve had over three centuries to roam above ground,” Vasso said, then took her hand. “Up you go.” He lifted her onto Hondor’s shoulders, then placed Snik in front of her.
“What about you?”
Vasso smirked, then hopped up behind her. She didn’t know whether she should be turned on or comforted. He wrapped his arm around her, his palm splayed on her stomach, his lips on her ear. “Are you ready, Nula?”
Ready wasn’t the word for it. Sera adjusted herself to lean back into his chest. "Another pet name?"
He chuckled low in her ear. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”
With a click of his tongue, they were off.
When fighting the agbris, she hadn’t had time to appreciate the animal’s grace and majestic form. Elken almost glided above the ground, weaving around each tree and branch in a perfectly timed dance. And with every leap, her body rubbed against Vasso’s, sending a jolt through her.
She knew he was having a hard time containing himself as well.
His hand had dropped from her stomach to the waistband of her leather pants.
His thumb lazily dipped below, in a question or promise, she wasn’t sure.
All Sera knew was that she was drenched.
Still, their conversation yesterday, before everything went to shit, rang in her mind.
He didn’t want to bring her to Gehenna. He was bound, but by whom she didn’t know. Part of her had hoped that he’d changed his mind. That maybe he would petition the steward for her. Use his power as a lord to ask for mercy. Was that too much to wish for?
After hours of torture, the elken leaped across a narrow point in the river, and they were officially in the Deadlands.
Hondor pranced as if the sand burned his hooves. Vasso shushed him.
“So this is the Deadlands?” Sera asked. Tall dunes obscured the view to the south, but everywhere else was nothing but sand and black rock.
Farther to the north, she could make out an outcrop of buildings, though they were too far to see how many and what condition they were in.
“We’ll walk from here.” Vasso slid off the elken. He reached for Snik, who happily jumped into his arms, then Vasso held his hands out to her.
Sera smirked as she leaned forward. She didn’t miss the way he slowly set her down, making sure that she had contact with his body the whole way to the ground. His sweat, that woody smell of ash, surrounded her. She’d bottle it up if she could.
“Real smooth.”
“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”
Shadow help her; she wanted to know them all. Every trick, every moan, every lick, every touch.
Vasso patted Hondor on his shoulder, and the elken took off.
They trudged through the sand, Snik scampering, chasing insects into holes, and slowly made their way up the dunes.
The sun was an inferno. She wished she had kept her Citadel trousers instead of the thick black leather ensemble Vasso had made for her.
Sweat beaded and slid down the creases of her legs and back.
Anywhere the outfit wasn’t touching skin was a puddle of perspiration. She wiped her brow with her forearm.
Vasso shook his head. “You’ll have to adapt before you go underground.”
“I thought it would be cooler underground?”
“Some parts, but not Gehenna. It’s basically built around Eraphon’s heart.”
“You’ll just have to make me some new clothes, then.”
He smiled at her so genuinely that she felt that tug between them pull taut.
“It’s an honor.” With a snap of his fingers, her black leather pants, boots, and shirt turned into a long white linen skirt and sandals.
A thin camisole covered her torso, and she didn’t even mind its immodest sheerness.
She groaned, twirling in the breeze. The sea air hit her sweaty legs, giving instant relief.
“You should have done that an hour ago.”
“And missed the delight of watching you twirl?” Vasso smirked, then snapped again, changing into a white shirt and a pair of linen trousers to match hers.
“You ever going to teach me that trick?”
“We don’t have the exact same magic, Subdina.”
He didn’t remember what had happened the night before.
She flicked her wrist and thought of the wind she had manipulated, recalling what it had felt like.
Sera rotated her wrists in a winding motion. The purple amethyst from her enhancer glittered in her palm, and just as she’d envisioned, a tiny whirlwind formed between them.
His face went pale. “How?”
“Last night, when you were hurt, something happened… between us.” She gulped. “There was a quake, and then a blue beam of power shot up to the sky in the west. When it went out, I could manipulate your magic. It doesn’t feel like mine. It’s as if I’m borrowing from you.”
“So it’s done, then. They’ve killed Ophelia.”
Her heart seized in her chest. So soon? They’d left only days ago. “But the magic, I felt it.”
“She told me she made a deal, and it seems like Eraphon made good on her promise.” He rubbed the sweat from his brow.
“What kind of deal?”
“You know as much as I do how stubborn she was. Come on.”
He extended his hand, and she took it. This was war. That’s what Al had said, as if that was a good enough excuse to kill an innocent woman.
Vasso helped her to the top of a dune. Sera’s breath caught at the sight of the azure water. It was more vibrant than the ocean at home. The same color as that beam of light that had extended into the night sky.
“Is—um—is the water safe?” For so long she’d wanted to touch the ocean, and now it felt like a small conciliation against the weight of Ophelia’s death.
“Go ahead,” he whispered.
Waves lapped against her shins, then up to her hips in a rhythm only the moons chanted to the stars. The rocking eased some of the burden on her chest, and the water… it was everything Sera expected it to be.
Strong arms wrapped around her. His heartbeat ticked in an opposite beat to the rising tide.
“We met forty years ago. Ophelia was holed up in this dilapidated cottage like a feral cat. She’d been shunned by your coven for twenty years at that point.
” Sera stayed silent. “I didn’t know what to make of her, but she had already been made aware of me.
She was always writing in that dusty book of hers, leaning over bowls of water.
I think that’s why she loved the pools so much.
She hadn’t had access to them for so long. ”
The weight of his chin on her shoulder was soothing against the unease in her heart. The smoothness of his cheek and the warmth of his breath on her ear brought tears to her eyes. It was ending. The safety of his arms.
“She talked about you the most, though.”
“Me?” Sera asked.
“She was excited to meet you.” He chuckled, the vibration humming through her. “We traveled together sometimes. When she met me at my manor after a long absence, explaining that it was time to start preparing, we worked and planned.”
“For what?”
“A better world.” She could feel his smile against her cheek. “Let’s get out of the water. I feel like mer bait.”
This life was short. She’d experienced loss, heartbreak, destruction, and death. It wasn’t that she wanted to save her sister because it was the right thing to do; perhaps, deep down, it was an escape of her own. To be away from the coven, away from harming the ones she loved over and over again.
Vasso settled in the sand. She sat in the space between his legs, cocooning into him, and watched the sunset. Wrapped in the arms of her destiny while her sister suffered, while Dominick suffered.
So long she had waited to belong, and now that she was here, she couldn’t help but feel guilt creep in. Why should she get what she wanted while so many others didn’t?
“This is what I wanted to show you.” Vasso pointed out over the water.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky burst into an array of colors, mirroring the pools’ threads Ophelia had so desperately loved.
Orange, blue, yellow, rose, indigo, purple: It was all there, swaying in a magical form of light.
“Sunrises over Plaranina are beautiful, but nothing compares to a sunset over Sidnah.”
“It’s as if she’s here.”
“She’s somewhere. I doubt we are rid of that witch yet.” He pulled her tight to him.
Sera waited for the sky to turn dark, soaking in every second of the sensations of his arms around her. “Will you take me?”
He sighed. “I think we could come up with a better plan than charging into the depths of Gehenna and trading you for your sister.”
“Do you have something up your sleeve you’d care to share?”
“I need time to think, to plan.”
“Vasso, you said yourself that you and Ophelia had been planning. If there is nothing, then I need to go, with or without you.”
He stiffened behind her. “I’m not letting you set foot underground without me.”
Oh, he was being stubborn.
Raven landed in the sand beside her, threw a note into her lap, and croaked so loud she winced. “Where have you been?” Sera unrolled the paper, but the scribble wasn’t Dominick’s.
They killed Ophelia. The Council has gone mad and has been torturing innocents. I traveled out as many as I could. Tell Vasso we’re holed up in his manor. It’s a mess, but I didn’t have anywhere else to take them.
—Alistair
P.S. You need to know that Dominick is not well.