Page 18 of Tales of a Deadly Devotion
‘Kat!’ came my name again. The prince from beneath. But I couldn’t see him.
Pain feasted on me as I curled onto my side, trembling as I gathered my knees to my chest. The barest movement stealing my strength until I became limp and still. That wishing stone before me tangled in the weeds, flickering weakly like a heartbeat.
Real. It was real but I couldn’t reach it. Couldn’t pull myself back from the abyss as the darkness bit into the corner of my vision.
‘Kat!’ Desperate and deep like thunder. His voice, just as it had been in that darkness.
I shook my head, pressing my forehead to my knees. It wasn’t real.
Serus. Something whispered distantly in my mind. Calm with its darkness. Then I felt the soft bite of his magic brush my skin, curling around my forearms, until the sting of the rain couldn’t touch me. Turning me gently – and then he was there.
The cool press of a leather gloved finger caressed my jaw. Tender and restrained. There was a stormy nature to his eyes, shadows beneath them, as was the tension in his jaw as he knelt over me. I was entranced in a moment, how the rain dripped from his hair, turning his shirt sheer as it clung to the muscled contours of him.
Another illusion. One I wanted more than all the others.
‘Kat.’ There was such agony in the quietness of his voice as his gaze desperately moved over every inch of me.
‘I—’ Words were too heavy on my tongue, throat too raw with the weight of them. Unable to draw in enough breath to say his name. To call him back to me. Grasping weakly at his shirt; wanting to feel the warmth of him. To hold onto him. Even if he wasn’t real.
He pulled me into his arms, as if the sheer size of his form could shield me from the icy pounding rain. The warmth of his skin, the sharpness of that beasam bark scent as my face was tucked against the curve of his throat. Greedy for that promise of reality. That he’d come back for me.
Then I was up in his hold. The rain gone, just the dripping of water as the warm wooden walls of Blackthorn Manor rushed past me. My head lolling back against Emrys’s hard shoulder. The ceiling so vast; wooden creatures peering down with sad, concerned faces as we moved through doorways; bells ringing as I was jolted, pain sharp and unforgiving in my limbs.
‘Bloody saints!’ William’s pale, fear-stricken face stumbled into focus. Hair dark and curls flat from the rain as he peered down at me as we continued to move. ‘Where was she?!’
‘Get Gideon.’ Emrys’s response was terse in a voice not entirely his own. Every step jolted me with new agony as I winced, clawing at his shirt.
‘He’s … I think he’s—’ William stumbled over his words, eyes darting desperately to me as if for help.
‘Get Thean to deal with him,’ Emrys replied through his teeth, not lessening his pace as William vanished. Suddenly there were no hallways or trinkets, just the bed I’d escaped. Sheets soft and warm beneath me as I trembled, my grip on Emrys tight despite the numbness of my fingers. The surge of the fire in the hearth stinging my flesh with its intensity.
‘Kat.’ My name left him so weakly, weighted with such disbelief, as if I was the illusion and not him. His eyes watching every trembling breath slip through my lips.
‘I-it hurts,’ I half moaned, unable to stop shaking.
The quiet admission spurred him into motion, one arm still around me as he rooted around the bedside table, cursesslipping between his lips. The soft thump of items hitting the floor and rolling across the wood before he came back to me. Coaxing gently with a hand under my chin.
He held a teacup to my lips that caught on my teeth with their chattering. I tried to drink what he offered, even if half of it dripped down my chin. The horrid earthy taste of it made me grimace, gritty on my tongue, but I swallowed. The warmth of it soothing the rawness of my throat. Chasing away the tang of blood and the bitterness of wet earth.
My fingers curled around his wrist, feeling the thrum of his pulse. The restlessness of his magic brushing over me. I tried to drag in a deeper breath, only for it to turn into a retching cough. A horrid rattling in my chest tugging on my ribs and making me wince. Emrys’s palm became a firm pressure against my damp back to soothe it away.
A cloth suddenly appeared at my mouth as he wiped away the spilled mess. He was too cautious as he watched me with dark eyes, counting my very breaths until they settled once more.
‘I need to get you warm.’ A desperation lingered in his voice. It was unlike him. As were the troubled depths of his gaze, flecks of black deepening their colour with his worry.
I wanted to soothe him but I couldn’t move. My muscles too knotted with pain.
‘Kat?’ he asked and it was then I realised he was waiting for permission.
I nodded weakly, trying my best to turn towards him. Then my wet ruined nightgown was gone with clinical efficiency, to be replaced with soft, warm towels against my skin, wrapping around me before I was buried beneath the heavy covers, thick socks on my feet as I curled into a ball beneath the weight and warmth of it all. My fingers moved,sluggish but greedy as I found his gloved hand beneath the tangled bedding.
The leather damp but I didn’t let go. Desperate to stay here with him. With the sharp authority of his magic as it wrapped itself around my wrists, seeking more of me, pressing itself between my fingers.
I relished in the drag of it against my skin. Knowing nothing could touch me here. Even my own demons. He wouldn’t let them. Just as he’d promised.
The fingers of his other hand tangled in my wet hair, combing it out from where it had knotted around my neck. I let my head turn on the pillow, looking up at him as he leant over me, like some ancient wyvern guarding a prize. A flare of my lavender pierced the pitch-black of his eyes. The shadows played against the sharp angles of his handsome face.
‘You came back.’ His words were so soft I almost missed them in the crack of the fire.
