Page 20 of Tales of a Deadly Devotion
How that seal had shattered like delicate glass beneath my bare bloody feet. That dark smoke forming claws. Pulling me down and clawing at my flesh. Refusing to let me go. Starved of its vengeance.
Tears burnt my eyes as I focused on the midnight fabric above the bed, the dark wood and the intricacy of the carving. Noticing this wasn’t my room, the strong scent of beasam bark and the familiar seductive chill of the remnants of his magic. Making something uncertain swoop through me.
The memory of falling into the same bed. The cage of Emrys’s body around me, the seductive drag of his lips up the curve of my throat.
This was Emrys’s room.
Thean continued with their apple, unbothered by my sudden flush of memory. I turned my head, wanting to tell them to leave. Only to see their attention on the fire, revealing a horrid purple smear of bruising on their sharp jaw.
‘What happened to your face?’ I frowned and tried to prop myself higher up on the mound of pillows behind me. Those sharp eyes turned back to take me in with barely contained annoyance.
‘Ask your dark prince.’ Irritation flashed in their expression. Fingers gently tracing the injury before falling back into their lap. ‘He clearly isn’t amused by my humour where you’re involved. Then again, if you were attempting to lead him into madness, rolling around in your nightgown in the rain certainly worked.’
Their smile was wicked, as their head fell back against the chair so they could shift their focus to the open doorway.
It was then I realised they hadn’t been waiting for me to wake up. No. They’d been waiting for someone else.
A moment later Alma appeared in the doorway. Her dark hair in unfamiliar disarray.
‘What are you doing?’ A stack of towels dropped from her arms with her surprise of seeing the voyav. Landing in a heap at her feet, she ignored them, gathering up her grey skirts to stumble over the mess, striding right for Thean. A menace in each step that I knew too well, a flush on her darker skin.
‘Helping,’ Thean reassured her, folding their arms as if excitedly readying themself for whatever performance she was about to offer. That the claws beginning to sprout from her fingertips were for amusement, not warning.
‘You can’t be in a ladies bedchamber!’ She leered over the voyav’s larger masculine form, hands braced on her hips.
‘This isEmrys’sroom, darling,’ Thean pointed out wryly.
‘It’s improper.’ Scales peppered her cheeks at the challenge.
Thean’s grin sharpened and in the mere blink of an eye, their male form shifted easily until the female one took its place. Long luscious hair cascading over their shoulders as theyfluttered long lashes, the low buttoning of the blouse almost revealing full breasts.
‘Better?’ they asked, eyes gleaming with delight as Alma’s face only got redder, bumpy green ridges rising at her throat.
‘If you want to bedisembowelled, carry on,’ Alma ground out between fanged teeth, one finger pointed in a warning that ended with a deadly sharp claw.
‘Careful, darling, you might arouse me,’ Thean teased, and I saw a slight tremor up Alma’s spine. As if she was about to leap out of her dress and make good on her promise.
‘Alma.’ I reached for her across the covers.
She froze. An unsteady breath slipped from between her lips before she turned cautiously, hesitant as if she could have imagined my voice. The barest tremble in her hands where they fell limply to her sides as those bright green eyes met my own.
So human and lost. How she stared at me blankly for the longest moment, as if she didn’t recognise me. I felt like she wouldn’t. As if I’d been unmade and pushed back together in all the wrong places.
‘Kat.’ It was the barest whisper. I felt the sting of my tears, the tremble of my lip as I tried to smile. That broke the spell over her as tears rolled down her own cheeks.
‘Kat!’ She tripped over Thean’s sprawled legs as she grabbed my hand and clambered onto the bed. Not giving me a moment before she crushed me against her chest. Sobbing softly against my neck, her whole body shaking in my weak hold. She’d lost weight, too small and thin in my arms.
‘You bloody bastard madwoman,’ she wept. I felt the sharp dig of her claws into my back. Not caring for the discomfort. She was here.
Stay right here with me. Another command I’d followed long ago from her lips.
A memory coming to the forefront of my mind. Alma’s small face covered in soot and blood. Filthy hair singed as she shivered in the darkness of the burning wood. Fat snowflakes clinging to her lashes as she pressed snow against my burning flesh.
Go, I’d begged, knowing they’d come after I’d killed Daunton. That it wouldn’t be long until they found us. How they’d never let us go.
How she’d huddled over me, shielding me from the snow in nothing but her nightgown, letting my head rest in her lap. How tears made tracks across her filthy cheeks. The map of bruising across her skin up to her brow. So thin and small.
I’m staying right here with you,she’d answered. Her fingers finding my own, despite what my hands had done. How my skin still burnt.
