Page 138 of A Fate of Blood and Magic
“Her name was Bianca,” she said.
His throat bobbed, something dark swimming across his face and into his eyes while his shadows tugged against his skin.
“Bianca,” he repeated.
“Is that your mom?” I asked, my words coming out in a hushed whisper.
He remained silent, his fingers tracing the woman’s face with such delicacy. His eyes blackened further, his nostrils flaring while the air around us seemed to still. It seemed to hold its very breath.
“Alastor.” I held a hand to his arm, feeling the way his muscles quivered at the contact.
He turned to me, staring at my hand before he drew his attention to the female. “May I keep this?” he asked, holding the edge of the drawing between his fingers.
The female nodded before she gingerly went through the papers to draw out another one. Triplet babies smiled back at us from the page, and I tightened my hold on Alastor’s arm. He shifted closer to me, his unoccupied hand going to the bridge of his nose while he let out a long, drawn-out sigh that quivered from his parted lips.
I took in the way he looked back at the triplets. The way he fisted his hand that he tapped against his mouth. The way his eyes screamed of a deep-rooted pain I’d never be able to identify.
When he stepped closer to my side, I reached for theillustration of Alastor and his siblings. The female shifter kept her eyes downcast when I folded it with gentle care.
“Why don’t I hold onto this for you?” I asked. “Until you’re ready.”
His head bobbed in a jerky nod. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“I’m better alone.” He stared at the paper I held in my hand. “Keep them safe.” With that, he walked toward the exit and left.
“I’m sorry,” the female said. “I thought—I didn’t think . . .”
“I think this’ll be good for him,” I said. “Eventually.” Hopefully. “The people in all these illustrations look happy.” I tapped on another paper, with hundreds of people joined together outdoors, some eating, others dancing, all of them joyful.
God, it hurt to see that joy, knowing it’d be vanquished from this realm.
“They met every night to eat supper together,” the female said. “Each night, different families were charged with cooking for the whole village. After eating, they’d gather to play music and dance. Every single night. Can you imagine that?”
“It sounds like a dream.”
“Doesn’t it?” she asked. “Back in the human realm, our tribes were much smaller than Respandora, but our people would get together once a month to eat supper together. If we were certain no one could hear us outside our tribe, we’d create our own music and dance. It was something I always looked forward to, and I hope once Respadora is restored, we can continue the mage’s custom.”
I smiled despite the ache in my heart. “I’d love that too.”
My eyes watered, and before I started crying in front of her, I excused myself and went to Elias.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, cupping my cheek.
I shook my head. “It will be.”
He peered behind me, and when I looked over my shoulder, I found Javier on the other side of the tavern with his friends. I smiled at Delaney and Kieren when they waved at me, only turning away when Javier caught me watching them. Before he turned away, I saw the hurt that crossed his face.
Dammit. Dammit all to hell.
In that moment, I yearned to speak to Elias through mind-speak, to twine the threads of our soul together and send my love to him through the ribbons that had come to feel as much a part of me as the skin that covered my bones.
Regardless of how futile it felt, I still searched for those threads, believing they lived somewhere inside us. But I couldn’t find them.
Dartboards hung on the walls of the tavern. There was one closest to our group, while Javier and his friends played at the one across the room.
Excusing Elias from his audience, I walked up to Brenton. My brother was quick to jump to his feet to give me a hug before he clapped Elias’s shoulder, making a quick smacking sound that made me jump. Elias turned his head, his brilliant, kind eyes on me and soothing words on the tip of his tongue. Rather than speak, he trailed his fingers up my arm to the base of my neck, where he gave me a light squeeze.
