Page 162 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain
Trade of goods that our people rely on.
Alec watches me innocently, his dark eyes managing to look boyish and playful while he leans back, propping himself on his palms.
I’m at a complete loss for words while the weight of his actions wraps around me like a loving hug. I stare at him, my mouth parted.
“Why would you do that?” I whisper in disbelief.
He swiftly pulls me into his strong arms, holding me close.
“There is nothing I would not do for you. Seeing the pure joy on your face when I tell you about the lengths I would go to, just to see you smile, is worth every risk. As you said yourself, you are the true gift. There is nothing I could give you that would come near the worth of what you give me, Ellya. Do you believe in my devotion to you now?”
Leaning forward, I run my fingers through his coarse beard, the contrast of the scruffy hair against my soft tips stark. I kiss him deeply, giving him my thanks with radiating intensity, using no words.
The sky above us is rapidly darkening; twinkling pinpricks of light shine through the increasing velvety darkness. To my right, the lights of The Capital glow bright, a great splash of vibrancy in the desert. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. I’ve never felt more beautiful.
But a dark stain seeps in to taint the moment, a deep fear I have yet to speak.
I break free from our kiss, and Alec frowns at me. “What is wrong?”
Biting my lip, my teeth hold in the last bit of poison that I can’t seem to shake. He sees that I’m fighting myself for words, and he pulls my lip free from my teeth.
“Speak to me. Remember your promise.” When I still don’t talk, Alec’s hands rest on my cheeks before pushing into my hair, pulling my head to look up at him. “Why are you holding back from me?”
I swallow hard and will myself to speak my fear.
“You loved the girl I was so much.” I trace my fingers against his jaw, searching the depths of his dark eyes. “What if I can’t find her again?”
Alec drops my head and pushes me to my back, resting himself gently on top of me. The position feels like an emphasis to whatever he’s about to say.
“You do not have to find anything, Ellya. I will always love what is right in front of me, at any moment, of any day.” He strokes my cheek with the backs of his fingers in a loving caress, eating away at my lingering doubt. “I am yours.”
His eyes bore into mine, communicating a thousand things and nothing at once. A wordless plea to accept the care he has for me, and I return it right back hoping that he can sense my need for him.
Because I do need him.
Nana was right. Alec is as much a part of me as my own heart, my own soul. The two of us were not brought together by the Fates, because I was made specifically for him. To continue to deny myself the part of my soul that is begging to be whole—to fuse with his—would be to condemn us both to a slow and torturous death.
Alec places his large hand over my hip and squeezes over his unofficial claiming mark, putting pressure on the deliciously sore bruise. “I am yours,” he repeats quietly. “And you are mine.” He places a kiss on my lips before rolling onto his back beside me, holding our laced hands to his chest.
I gaze up at the stars, feeling easy in the soft luminescence of the moons.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
ELLYA
Alec joins me for training whenever he can, but he’s been busy with the upcoming Samhain celebrations, an important holiday in Quinndohs; the people celebrate the lives of those they have loved and lost when the veil between the living and dead is thinnest.
The city is like a new world splashed with vibrant color. Garlands and wreaths of marigolds, carnations, and other various flowers bedeck building facades; streamers of all colors flow from the roofs of buildings; flamboyant strings of faerie lights blink in shades of reds, yellows, and golds from the tiny flying sprites filling the orbs.
Entire city blocks have been closed to traffic for the celebrations. Large metal bowls have been set in the streets with all manner of differently decorated altars surrounding them. The bowls sit, waiting to be filled and lit for massive street bonfires to feed thousands of candles for the altars, illuminating the city with soft flickers encapsulating fond memories.
I have woken in Alec’s arms nearly every morning since the fateful day that he gifted me my staff. I wake on the eve of Samhain—and something is missing. It quickly becomes obvious what’s different when I take in the cold, empty bed next to me andfrown. The one morning that Alec left before I was ready to rise, he kissed me and told me that he had something important to oversee.
My frown quickly dissolves when a mannequin in the center of the room catches my eye, and my mouth drops.
Fitted to the mannequin is a stunning black silk dress.
Scrambling to my feet, I run over to it. My fingers skim over the fabric, smooth as still water. The bodice is form fitting with a deep curved neckline. The sleeves are capped with delicate ruffles and the hem sits mid-thigh. The truly breathtaking part of the dress is the back that flows with hundreds of individual strips of silk that layer and drape to barely brush the floor. Each piece is hand painted with green, gray, and black to resemble peacock feathers.
