Page 14 of Antiletum
“She knows,” Tabitha whimpers vaguely. “She knows.”
I feel the blood fall from my face at those damning words, making it cold. But that could mean anything.
Right?
It could even be a good thing.
But no…
If it were, Delaney wouldn’t have been distant since we wed.
A hand gets lost in my pocket, rubbing against the worn gold clasp hidden there, my thumb stroking over the faded dahlias etched into it. The other flows through my black hair, pushing it away from my face.
Patience that Tabitha has been working on for two months runs dry in an instant. I kept it all together for the sake of Delaney, and I’m letting it all explode out of me at once—right now.
“KNOWS WHAT?!” My infuriated roar echoes against the trees.
“She knows that you can’t be trusted!” Tabitha yells. She’s giving in just as easily as I expected her too, thank theNocturne. “On your wedding night, she had a dream. Rainah warned Delaney not to trust you. She reached out to her today to try to find out why!”
The smell of Tabitha’s terror steeped sweat makes me want to vomit. She smells all wrong. I’m ready for this to end. From the sounds of the Ellden clock, the hungry sighs of the unsatiated Heartstone, they are too.
“And did she? Did Rainah elaborate on why I’m not to be trusted?”
I’m going to pretend that’s not a ridiculous question while I’m about to sacrifice my wife’s beloved cousin to a deaddeo’s heart.
Tabitha’s eyes downturn in endless despair. “Please,” she cries.
Fire crackles through my being, and she must see it in my eyes. With a resigned whimper, she gently shakes her head. “No. Rainah wouldn’t speak. She only waved at us through the mirror.”
I can only hope the snake is telling the truth as I free my dagger from her hand. In one smooth motion, it slides it across her throat, allowing her life blood to roll like a waterfall onto the altar and down to the Heartstone, setting things to rights.
4
Toeing the line of treason
Delaney
Something about my room feels different before I even open my eyes, like the crackling of a lightning storm compressed into my chamber.
Fully unfurling from sleep, I stay sunk into the soft down of my mattress, clutching my thin sheet. I strain my ears, trying to pick out what it is against the normal summer morning sounds.
Amongst the twitter of birds, a deep breath sighs nearby, making my eyes widen and my body snap forward at once, sitting up in my ebony four poster bed. Clutching my silk sheet to my chest, I gape at the source of the noise.
“About time,” Val says, an informal black shirt melded to his broad shoulders. The cheeky smile he wears speaks to him not being truly bothered by how long he’s been in here. Waiting. Watching me sleep. For…
How long?
I gape at him, my surprised and suspicious eyes sliding across the room, looking for any other unexpected wake up call visitors.
Val sits at my breakfast table, barefoot and comfortable, as if this exactly where he belongs, a full spread of fragrant and steaming food infront of him. Perfectly at home. How long did it take to set this all up quietly enough to not wake me? It wasn’t the tinkling of porcelain, or the shift of items, that roused me from sleep. Not even the delectable scent of bacon and orange cranberry muffins.
I suppose that electricity was just… him.
The imposing, dominating presence of my husband. The burrowing stare of those black eyes—so rare I’ve only ever seen the shade on one other before him, making my heart do a painful little lurch every time I gaze too deeply. Too reminiscent of a person whose name I haven’t allowed myself to utter in too many years. Not since the last time I spoke it into a mirror.
I do want to get lost to Val’s faceted black eyes. No matter how it hurts.
“I am in dire need of coffee.” Val speaks as if I’m not sitting in my bed, nearly naked—save for the thickness of my shock. His voice sounds a little crackly, a little strange. Not the first time it’s happened, but I am at a loss for what causes it.
