Page 87 of Antiletum
I suppose I should be grateful.
I tell myself it’s nothing more than the craving to scream at him. To rage. To let loose all the fury I didn’t last night. I only want him in front of my face so I can bring my anger back to life. Feel something other than this emptiness. There’s nothing more to the hollow ache left in his absence than the loathing he bred, the one that I need to nurture.
True to my word, I’ve spent the day preparing myself to head back to the manor. To live quietly and alone and do what I know so well. Another shot of mourning rolls through me when I remember that now, I won’t even have my necromancy to keep me company, not unless I want to take a preventative capsule ofanitletum.But even then, the Heartstone would need an offering after using magic outside of my bond. The thing that made me so undesirable and unworthy of what a parent should offer their child in the first place—gone.
No family. No husband. No owl.
And no magic either.
Trying to settle myself in some capacity before departing for my long journey tomorrow, I soak in a bath, the large pool sunken into the floor. Let it ease through my muscles, each layer of vessels and sinew harboring my tension, the sun having long since sunk off to sleep.
My fingers have pruned, tightening in the lavender scented water. Still, I can’t force myself to rise out of the tepid bath. Instead, I keep my head tilted back on the stone lip, eyes shut.
Clatters in the bedroom break through my foggy mind, not quite asleep but the closest I’ve been in too many days. Too tired. Too stretched thin.
I still, straining to hear, opening my eyes towards the row of stained windows like that would amplify my hearing.
At least my silly, irrational heart has given up its incessant hopes that it may be Val. Coming to tell me that he hasn’t given up, and he still sees me as worthy of being the object of his affection. His obsession. That he hasn’t brushed me aside just like everyone else. Considered me a lost cause. Something to merely put up with.
Deos. I truly have gone mad.
Keeping my stare pinned at the window, glazing over the murky rooftops of Omnitas below, I wait for the maid in my room to finish their task. Strange comfort accompanies the nearness of another person. One that I shove away, as such sentiments have never done me any good. Still, my heart eases to a normal cadence for the first time in far too many hours and I relish it with a deep, full breath, tilting my head towards the vaulted ceiling and tiered chandelier lighting the room, the ache on my ribs easing just a bit.
That is, until the en suite door swings open—hard enough it bounces off the wall, shaking a hung painting and knocking over a potted plant.
I yelp, jumping with enough force that a spray of water leaps from the tub.
So much for my peaceful heart rate.
There stands Val in the arched doorway, shirtless and barefoot. Wearing nothing but loose grey pants and a smoldering look of utter determination. He smirks, gaze roaming over my shocked face. “Good. You’re still here.”
We stare at each other for a moment while I recover myself, making sense of the fact that Val isn’t allowing me to go quietly at all. That he’s here. For me.
After allowing me to ruminate all day long.
And he’s impeding on my bath without invitation. Didn’t even bother to knock. Simply took it upon himself to waltz in as if he has every right. It occurs to me that the presence in my room that soothed me wasn’t a servant at all.
“Before you point out your express instruction not to seek you out,” Val warns, “I was told not to cometo the manor. You’ll have to be more specific when telling me not to fight for you, ocellus.”
The lack of tact, the sheer entitlement is so very bold, so veryVal,a slow vine of fire climbs up my back, reinvigorating my weary heart. It spreads through my chest and snuffs out the empty cold of my mind and body in a single flare of flame and smoke. I grasp onto it like a lifeline.
Mindless, enraged, I push up to stand, water sluicing off my body in a loud patter. Val’s eyes widen a fraction, taking in my nakedness. On full display, same as he was in the graveyard. The sight wipes that infuriating smirk right off of his face.
“Do you mind?” I demand, hands resting at my hips. “I’m in the bath!”
My statement has the opposite effect of what I intended. Instead of apologizing, or leaving, my husband’s expression shifts to triumphant. Solidified in whatever ideas are running rampant in his mind.
Val doesn’t miss a beat, his heated stare locked on mine as he declares, “I don’t mind one bit, Delaney.In fact—this is fucking perfect.”
And then he’s moving in my direction, so fast I can barely register what’s happening.
“What—” I begin, but the rest of my words are punched from existence when Val scoops me in his arms, supporting behind my knees and my back. A rain of bathwater follows my feet, drenching the floor.
I squeal, kicking my legs.
Val is undeterred. Has no slip in expression before shifting his hold to toss me over his shoulder effortlessly, soaking himself further in the process. Our wet skin slides against each other. Val holds me tighter, my bare ass cold in the air.
“Valledyn!” I cry, my world upside down, wet hair trailing towards the floor.
