Chapter 25 #3
“Please,” I said, crossing my arms loosely as I turned towards the window. “Someone as good looking as you, who lives in a house like this? Don’t tell me there isn’t some poor soul waiting around to swoon at your feet.”
The joke slid off my tongue before I could stop it—armour disguised as wit. Safer to tease than admit how aware I was of him, how his presence filled the space like heat. I glanced over my shoulder in time to catch his raised brow and crooked smile.
“You think I’m good looking?” he asked, casually.
He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his broad chest. I dragged my gaze over him, then shrugged. “I think a lot of things.”
His chuckle vibrated through the air, low and rich enough to stir something in me. Even blind folk would be able to tell he was beautiful just by the sound of that laugh.
“I can assure you, there is no one I share my bed with.” His emerald stare sent shivers down my spine. I turned away abruptly. If he saw even a slight crack in my armour, he’d no doubt take advantage of it.
I just needed to find some way I could repay him. Then this feeling taking up space in my chest would leave. When I didn’t have debt, what could he possibly hold over me?
I needed money.
Nik’s voice broke through my thoughts. “I’ll give you a moment to rest,” he murmured. “I’ll fix us some breakfast.”
He turned towards the door, but the word tumbled out of me. “Wait.”
He paused, glancing back.
“Can you take me to The Grey? I—I left my money there.”
Nik hesitated, then shook his head. “You can’t go back. Not the way you’re imagining. You’re no longer part of that world.”
My stomach dropped. I knew I’d lost it the moment I woke up in Oscuro, but coming here had given me a sliver of hope that I might be able to get it back. “So, it’s just . . . gone? All of it?”
He nodded. “Things like that don’t cross over cleanly. They belong to the old world.” A pause stretched between us. “Taking from The Grey disrupts the balance,” he added. “That’s why we try not to interfere. The living and those beyond breath aren’t meant to mix.”
Heat crept into my face—anger, shame, loss, all tangled together. All that work. All those nights. I’d saved every scrap just to survive, and now it was nothing but dust. I fought back the tears threatening to spill for the thousandth time.
As if he could read the look on my face, he continued softly, “I can have a Lightner soldier retrieve it. We could give it to someone in The Grey who actually needs it.”
I froze. “You’d . . . do that?”
He nodded once. “It’s the best I can offer. And it’s yours so it should go where you decide. Even if you can’t give it yourself.”
Nik took a few steps closer. On a breath, fresh pine danced through my senses, and for a moment, I wanted, desperately, for his arms to wrap around me again. I shrunk into myself, hating that I wanted it.
He shoved his hands into his pants pockets, and part of me deflated. He offered a gentle smile. “We’re technically not meant to reveal ourselves to Shadowkin. Only soldiers in the Light King's army can in certain situations.”
“So why did you?”
A small smile danced across his face. “Because you looked like you’d long since made peace with never being chosen softly.”
The words caught me off guard. I held his gaze too long, something unspoken flickering between us. My chest tightened; I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh, cry, or run. The room tilted suddenly. The exhaustion I’d been ignoring came roaring back, the edges of my vision dimming. My knees wobbled.
Nik was in front of me before I hit the floor, his hands steady at my arms. “Hey—breathe,” he murmured.
I looked up at him, at those impossibly green eyes full of something I’d stopped believing existed. Not pity. Not hunger. Just . . . someone seeing me.
It scared me more than the darkness ever had.
I pushed off his chest, taking a few steps back. “Fine,” I muttered, voice shaking. “I can’t let Kavish find it.”
He nodded slowly, not arguing. “I understand. Once you’re ready. You can decide who it goes to and I will organise it.”
I turned towards the window, the horizon of Lucius glowing gold in the distance. Nik’s footsteps sounded through the room as he retreated. I turned sharply. “If I wanted to . . . could I see who’s here in Lucius?”
He paused mid-stride to look at me. “You could.”
I twisted my fingers together, then forced my hands behind my back so he wouldn’t see the shake in them. “My friend, Meeka, from the apothecary in The Grey. She died the night I did, but when I woke up in Oscuro, she wasn’t beside me. I can only assume it’s because she came here instead.”
His expression changed, eyes softening. “I—Sapphire . . . she’s alive.”
My lips parted, but no sound came.
No, that couldn’t be right.
The night I died still clung to me like smoke. The sound of Rhode’s footsteps behind me. The rasp of my own breath tearing through my throat. The weight of hands that wouldn’t let go. And Meeka—the sound of her head hitting stone still made me flinch, echoing in my mind.
For the first time since crossing into this cursed afterlife, something in my chest lifted instead of sinking.
But the joy was fragile . . . so fragile I didn’t dare touch it.