Chapter 11
A heavy, singular knock pounded against her bedroom door.
Elysia glanced up from the book she was trying and failing to read.
Begrudgingly, she pulled herself out of her warm, soft bed, and wound her damp hair into a bun as she walked over.
She paused, cautiously let her magic slither out, tasting the energy of the person outside the door.
After years of her magic being inaccessible, it was still strange to have it just be there, ready and waiting for her to call upon it.
Unsurprisingly, it was Aidan disturbing her at this hour.
His head thudded against the wood with exaggerated impatience, voice rumbling through the door. “Are you enjoying feeling me up?”
Embarrassed, she flung open the door. “That is not what I was doing!”
“Could have fooled me.” He tossed a heavy coat at her and set off down the hall.
Elysia scrambled to grab it, running after him. “Excuse you! Are we going somewhere? I’m in my pajamas for the gods’ sake.”
Aidan stopped abruptly. “Sweet of you to think of me, but we’re just taking a short walk. I want to show you something.”
Realizing what she’d said, Elysia grumbled after him. “Maybe I was talking about the other gods.”
“Sweetheart, I’m the only god you’ll ever be talking about.”
One arm into the coat, Elysia blinked before hastily pulling on the other arm along with her boots. How did someone who looked like a fucking accountant keep spitting lines like that? It was both confusing and arousing, and she needed it to stop already.
Outside, they walked side by side, cutting through the dead winter lawn with Crusher tagging along at their feet.
Elysia glanced surreptitiously at the man beside her.
Hands shoved into his long wool coat with his black hair mussed and a tiny ink stain on his cheek, she hated to admit that maybe the look was less accountant and more bookie.
His gaze twitched toward her. “Yes?”
“I can’t decide if you’re an accountant who sometimes fights or a bookie who drinks too much tea.”
A blinding ear-to-ear grin split across Aidan’s face. “Do you have a preference between the two?”
She considered the question. “Both have their merits if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“Good answer,” he murmured.
She snuck another quick look at his angular profile, wondering if it would kill the attraction between them if she got to know him. In her experience, it was a foolproof method with ninety-nine percent of men.
Aidan glanced back at her as he stepped onto the narrow dirt path that led into the Bonewoods. “Do I even want to know what you’re thinking?”
Elysia scooped up Crusher, snuggling her soft little body against her chest. “That maybe instead of avoiding you I should do the opposite and see if that handles whatever this is.” She looked up at him, completely serious. “Could be worth a shot.”
He held a branch out of her way. “Not following.”
She ducked under the tree limb. “You know how it is when people first get together. Sparks, butterflies, ripping each other’s clothes off. But then eventually, they see the cracks and realize they can’t stand the way the other person breathes. Maybe if I’m lucky, that’ll happen with you.”
Aidan’s jaw was practically in the dirt. He finally looked away, disgruntled. “Right.”
Elysia’s cheeks pinked. “I just mean you broke my kingdom and already omitted the immortality thing, and I don’t want to forget that just because you flirt and look like that. And you’re a little intense—we just met, you know?” Ohmygods, why couldn’t she shut up?
Aidan blew out a slow breath, the air crisp and white. Hands back in his pockets, he looked resigned. “I deserve that. And this probably isn’t going to help with the intensity front.” He stared off into the Bonewoods, suddenly seeming indecisive.
Crusher whined, and Elysia soothed her without thinking, rubbing her ears, and giving her scratches.
Aidan pointed at a small structure in the distance. His voice was dry. “We’re almost there, so if you could please refrain from ruining my most lethal guard. She’s taken centuries to train.”
Elysia’s gaze drifted to his. “Centuries,” she repeated. There may have been a slight crack in her voice.
He smiled easily enough, not bothering to respond.
“You said you made the deal with Blatz when you were young. That you were young and angry.”
“Young for a god,” he corrected. “I still am.”
Visions of women she’d known being married off to crusty, repulsive men filled her mind, and she shuddered. So, he was a dirty old pervert.
Aidan looked like he already knew he was going to regret asking. “What?”
Elysia smoothed the disgust from her face. “You might be young for a god, but by my standards you’re past senile.”
“Does that mean you’ve been trying to take advantage of the elderly? We have laws about that here.”
Elysia glared at him. “Fine. Age and time are…complicated for gods.”
He smiled again.
Silence fell between them as they continued to trudge through the Bonewoods, the same ones that had frightened her during her first visit.
The trees’ gothic fingers all pointing in judgment looked different to her now.
Less terrifying, but still poignant in their beauty.
Curiosity overcame her, bringing her to break the comfortable silence.
“This isn’t what the Deathlands always look like?”
Aidan’s eyes hardened, his cheekbones becoming pronounced in dissatisfaction. “My realm is not in as much immediate danger as yours anymore. It’s unstable and will eventually collapse if I never come into my full power, but I’ve worked to mitigate the damage. I worry that could rapidly change.”
A gust of wind blew the loose, damp tendrils of Elysia’s hair against her face. The structure was clearer now. It looked like some type of shed. “Because of Garrison?”
Aidan nodded.
Elysia started to muse aloud, hesitant to voice her suspicion. “Topp mentioned Garrison can divest people of their magic, or even life itself if it's someone who didn’t retain any magic. Is he…accessing death magic?” She knew she was right when his jaw tightened.
“A drop in the ocean of my power and look what he’s doing with it.” He glanced at her. “Magic and life force are intertwined. He can just as easily kill someone with magic, he just has to strip the magic first. I’m sure he’s realized this by now.”
Elysia absorbed this. “Can’t we just kill him? Deal broken and problem solved? How did he end up with any of your power, anyway?”
Frustration laced Aidan’s tone. “Possible but difficult. He is no longer entirely mortal.”
She balked. “But all mortals’ magic comes from the gods, and we still live and die.”
Aidan shook his head. “Diluted magic that comes from a wellspring we created specifically to imbue mortals with a trace of our abilities. Blatz has my direct, unfiltered power in his veins.”
“He’s a demigod. But how?” Dismay colored her voice.
“The fates don’t care for their plans being upended.
I allowed the deal, but Garrison sought it.
From their perspective, he was spitting on their mortal design, their gift.
He wanted nothing more than magic to be completely gone, and he got his wish, but they punished him for it as they punish anyone who goes against them.
Gave him a drop of the darkest magic one can hold to see if he would hold true to his dogma or spiral. ”
“He didn’t last very long,” she whispered, not even noticing the glass building in front of her.
“Yes, and he is going to be a problem, but for now, tonight, let’s forget that. I dragged you out here to give you a present, not to depress you further.”
Wrapped up in their conversation, it wasn’t until Aidan prompted her that she finally noticed the gorgeous small glass building only steps away. Dark iron framed the gleaming panes, and wrought iron flowers crawled over the glass door.
Elysia lowered Crusher to the ground, pausing only the shortest of seconds with her fingers on the door handle. “Is this what I think it is?” Excitement flew through her. The door was already springing open before Aidan even had a chance to answer.
She ran inside, stopping in the middle of the glass house to spin and look around. There were sturdy worktables and shelves filled with pots, dirt, and trays for organizing seeds. Heart in her throat, she looked at him. “You made me a life-size flower house?”
Aidan leaned against the wall next to the door, watching her. “I believe they’re called greenhouses.”
“But it’s for me? And plants will actually grow?”
Walking over to a mound of rich, dark brown soil, he ran his fingers through it. “While it is winter here, and it’s not as good as it will be one day when the Deathlands are healed, it’s something—a start.”
She examined the seeds, already itching to see what could grow in this strange realm. “You knew about my flowers? Because you’re a stalker?”
Aidan nodded shamelessly, not bothering to correct her as he allowed the dirt he was holding to run through his hand back onto the pile.
“I wish I could tell you that my intensity will lessen, but that would be a lie. I am obsessive, focused to a fault, and riddled with self-doubt and anxiety that you can’t imagine.
But I don’t want to put that pressure on you—I know you don’t want to be here.
And I understand more than you know what it’s like to be thrust into a role you didn’t ask for or want.
But I can’t dictate the fates any more than you, and I, personally, am glad that it’s you here.
” He cut off abruptly, once more covering his mouth as if stopping himself from saying anything more on the matter.
She looked at him with her guard a hair lower than usual. He was still the bane of her existence, but it might have been the best gift she’d ever been given. “I like the greenhouse, Aidan.”
He smiled, the anxiety in his stance easing at her words. “Thought you might.”