Page 71 of The Fated and the Damned
Kitarni was silent for a time, then she wrinkled her nose. “How does their relationship work, anyway? Do you think he has any equipment to … you know?”
My chest rumbled with a gruff laugh as I shuffled on the bed. “I’d prefer you didn’t think about Death’s skeletal knob, thank you very much. As far as I’m concerned, he’s missing that particular bone.”
Kitarni laughed, her eyes lighting up with mischief. “He is a demi-god though. A powerful one at that. Demi-gods must have some seriously epic sex.”
“My twisted little creature.” I let a dark smile carve my lips. “I would cut his hands off before he could touch you.”
She nestled into me, a smirk on her face. “I love it when you talk dirty.”
“And I love you.”
Her curls rippled like ocean waves as she rested her elbow on the bed, propping her chin on her hand. I traced my fingers over her curves, touching every dip and swell, admiring her nakedness. Her eyes pinned me with burning intensity. “Say it again. It sounded good.”
“I. Love. You.”
Her eyes glimmered with amusement as she moved closer and pressed a kiss to my lips. Long, sensual and sinful as the hell I’d been to. Wetness touched my cheeks and I pulled away in alarm, reaching a hand to her chin. “Does that truth scare you so?”
Her composure cracked and she shook her head. “I thought I’d lost you Dante. When you were bleeding on that table, the crown upon your head, I thought I’d never see you again. It made me realise some things.” I waited as she looked away, lost to her thoughts. When her eyes met mine again, they were filled with sorrow. “I spent months being miserable and angry—the pain not yet buried between us. After András forced us to reconcile, I drowned my doubts in your arms and was so consumed with everything around us that it was easy to shove my fears aside. But when we said our vows, I married you with doubt in my heart. Doubt that our broken pieces would fit, that this marriage would survive behind closed doors. I was wrong.”
My hand moved up her jawline, across her cheek, down the side of her face and around her curls. But still I stayed silent, knowing she needed to voice this, that it could well be our last chance for honesty together. For redemption.
She released a shaky breath and nuzzled into my hand, cocking her head as she looked at me. “I forgive you for everything. I don’t care about what was. Only what will be … or what could be if we make it out of this war alive. I—” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and she shook her head, chuckling nervously. “Oh fuck a duck. I love you, Dante. My heart is yours. It beats for you, and it will die with only you. I just needed to let you know in case—”
I kissed her before she could finish, my own heart thumping a war drum in my chest. There was still so much I wanted to do with my wife. I wanted her to spread those wings like she’d always wished. To explore the seas and the sands, to conquer our enemies and start a new reign that was fair and just. We’d danced around each other for too long, only for the last grains of sand in the hourglass to count down what time we had left.
So I’d just have to smash the damn thing. Fuck demi-gods and dark queens. My future was lying right beside me. András had said he’d believed our fates to be wound together and that the gods had bigger plans, and I believed it now more than ever. Our souls—our very beings—were as one, merged after our magic had collided and bonded together. From our sufferingandfrom our love, we’d become something new. A fierce spell no dark magic could imitate.
“No fire could ever burn so bright as what I feel for you,” I said fiercely. “We will get through this. You will always be with me, like the magic coursing through my veins. That beast you’re so afraid of, it lives in me too. And if it means saving you, I’d let it cut down every last man standing in my way.”
I pulled her to me, pressing my forehead to hers as we breathed each other in. “You’re wrong, Dante,” she said quietly. “I’m not afraid of it anymore. It’s a part of me. The good, the evil, every ugly facet—it’s all me. I’m tired of holding back every part of myself. I want to unleash it. I want to see the carnage it can wreak—both of our magics.”
A horn sounded in the distance and we bolted upright, our eyes burning.
“Get your gear on, Freckles. You’re about to get your chance.”
THIRTY-TWO
Kitarni
Thebreathleftmychest in a sudden rush. Cultists spread as far as the eye could see, their black robes billowing in the night breeze. Crows circled above, a bad omen for the bloodshed soon to be spilled. The damned chanting never ceased as the cultists formed line after line on the opposite side of the field, their torches dotting the sea of black.
The scent of burnt lavender and grass clung to my nostrils, cloying and sickly sweet—a smell that would only deepen as the hours passed, joined by death and rot and carrion fodder. I swallowed the lump in my throat, taking courage in my comrades around me. Witches and táltosok joined together at last, brothers and sisters and lovers-in-arms.
In first joining coven and clan, our ancestors started something special long ago and I would die knowing we’d truly brought them together again … but not before we raised a little hell along the way.
My hip tingled where the crown rested in a leather bag and I shuddered as the magic pulsed through me, calling me. The hairs on my arms stood on end, a chill settling over my neck that defied the balmy breeze in the summer night’s sky.
Arló shifted uneasily and I patted his neck comfortingly, leaning forward in my saddle. “Easy, boy. No running off on me tonight, okay?”
He nickered softly in answer and I smiled grimly. Dante and I sat abreast on our horses, an army of táltosok knights at our back. Witches formed ranks behind us, organised in units of fire, water, and earth witches. Their magic combined with the necromantic skills of the táltosok would be the turning point for this battle.
Until I slipped the crown on at least. Our little family had agreed I wouldn’t use it until it was clear any chances at victory were lost. Maybe that made us selfish to wait so long—to risk the lives of others—but the devastation it could wreak unchecked would take more than my life. Until I had a clear shot at Sylvie, I wouldn’t risk its power. There was no telling what it would do once I put it on or if I’d have total control. The risk of wiping out not just the cultists but our own was too great.
A desperate measure—that’s what the crown was. A last-ditch effort to destroy that monstrosity and her many minions. I didn’t allow myself time to think about what came next … or what didn’t. More than my life was at stake. That’s all that mattered.
I scanned the army of shadows for a glimpse of the Dark Queen, and … there. She stood near the treeline, bedecked in black armour with a seven-pointed-star etched in red that looked suspiciously like blood.
Our eyes met and she sneered, her gaze turning hungry as we stared each other down. Slowly, she ran a single finger along her throat and flashed those sharpened teeth.
