Page 28 of A Queen Of Broken Realms
“Joash’s awful deed doesn’t absolve me of my mistakes, Ashen.”
He blinks at me like I’ve just grown a second head. His shoulders fall a fraction. He bows his head for a breath and then pulls me into a tight embrace. “My Lu. I missed your light more than you could ever know.”
“You do realize I still would have killed Hakan if he was the one at fault. And I would have killed your sister if I’d known it was her.”
“It would have been justice.”
I pull away enough to look into the softening features of Ashen’s haunted beauty. “Would it? Aglaope was up to something when she was working with Davina to kill and harvest a demigod. As much as I hate to admit it, and I really do hate it, she might have been courting the consequences that ended up killing her.”
Ashen places a lingering kiss to my cheekbone, my eyelashes fluttering across his lips as I close my eyes and relish his warmth. “I doubt my sister reaped yours to uphold the rules of gods or realms,” he whispers against my skin. “Her interests never reached much further than her own benefit.”
I sink back into Ashen’s embrace, thinking about Aglaope and the flash of my vision of her confrontation with Ember on Anthemoessa. The scent of Ashen’s skin twists the hunger in my belly, and I start releasing my grip from his waist just as I hear a familiar yipping bark. The click of nails on the surface of the road pulls my attention toward a pair of amber eyes bounding toward us through the mist.
“Urtur!” I throw my arms open wide and the giant jackal bowls into me, his whole body wriggling as his black tail fans the fog behind him. He whines and licks my face with excitement until I push him away enough to wrap my arms around his neck.
“I think I’ve been usurped as his favorite,” Ashen grumbles behind me.
“That’s because you don’t like his snoring, whereas I find it adorable,” I say, grabbing the jackal’s jowls as he pants his sulfurous breath into my face. “Right, Urtur? I want to give you a gigantic dog bed, but the Reaper wants you to sleep outside. He’s so mean.Iknow you’re the best boy and you deserve a big fluffy bed.”
“Just you wait until he pisses on the sheets. You’ll think differently then,” Ashen says. He tries to sound serious, but I can still hear the amusement in his voice.
“Hewouldn’t,” I reply with mock horror as I cast a smile at Ashen over my shoulder. I’ll never tire of the way he looks at me in moments like this. It closes my lungs around the air in my chest. My heart burns with longing and the depth of the love I feel from him, pulling at the edges of my mated mark. This is my family. Ashen. Ediye and Cole and Eryx, Urtur and Zida. Maybe even Davina one day. And maybe Cyrus is right. Maybe I am home.
“Come on, vampire,” Ashen says, holding out a hand out for me to take. “Let’s get you andyourdog some rest.”
I take Ashen’s hand and we walk the streets with Urtur loping ahead, lighting the way with his amber eyes. I don’t know where we’re going, but I’m happy to stroll along with a bag of blood and my hand encased in the Reaper’s warm grip.
With a few turns, we arrive at a silver stone archway, the wordsEkallim Ukkincarved into the gentle curve that rises above the road.Palace of the Council. Ashen doesn’t like this place, I can tell that much not just from the mark that joins us, but from the tension of his shoulders and spine as he lets go of my hand to push open the gate that’s guarded by a pair of soldiers. But I still feel a touch of relief from him too. This place is safe, even though he hates it.
I can see why.
The palace is a wide, garish structure. Rows of carved columns display demons conquering werewolves and witches and vampires. A sea of suffering humans is hewn into the stone facade below the line of the veranda. There’s gold and gargoyles and scrolling script celebrating the wisdom of the Council and the leadership of Eshkar and Imogen. It’s more than excess…
“It’s fucking hideous,” I say as we ascend the steps toward a fortified gold door.
“Keep your expectations low, vampire,” Ashen says as he pushes it open. No surprise, it’s even worse on the inside. There are more columns, and paintings, and ornate furniture and historical relics pillaged from the Living Realm over centuries of time. We don’t linger to take it all in. We pass through the foyer of ugliness and head toward the far side of the building, taking a long corridor before arriving at a closed mahogany door.
Ashen’s wings sweep across the wall as he stands aside to let me pass into a simple, elegant living suite. I already know he’s put his mark here. I can smell the fresh coat of paint that’s covered the walls, most in a warm shade of white aside from an accent wall of rich gray where a fireplace stands beneath a marble mantle. There are no paintings on the walls and only simple furniture that’s too small for the wide room and high ceilings, but it feels like a relief from the rest of the palace.
“It’s not permanent. We can fix the old house by the sea, if you still want to. But I think there is one thing you will like,” Ashen says. He takes my hand and leads us through the room and out a set of French doors that open to a stone patio fringed with lit candles. In the center is a circular, steaming pool several meters wide. A row of glass bottles of different sizes sits on a brass tray next to a bottle of wine and two glasses. Plush black towels and robes lie on a low ebony table. The scent of warm sandalwood drifts on the vapors of mist that curl above the milky surface.
“What in the hell is that gloriousness?” I ask, pointing to the pool.
“Credit goes to Ediye. She portalled here to set it up as we walked over.”
I drift over to the bottle of wine and pick up a folded white card, reading Ediye’s familiar, flowing cursive.You stink. Get clean, sex fiend. And no Little Mermaid lyrics. Love you, E.I snort a little laugh and walk to the edge, dipping my dirty toe into the water. It feels like heaven. I tilt my head back and give the deepest sigh I think I’ve ever made. “I love you both. With all my heart.”
I smile across the curls of scented steam at my Reaper. He watches as I strip off my torn shirt, his desire fanning the midnight flame that coils in his eyes. I descend the stairs into the pool, keeping my gaze locked to his until the water reaches my shoulders, and then I close my eyes and duck my head beneath the milky ripples. The grit of the last days lifts from my skin and melts away.
When I surface, Ashen is already stripped of his minimal, blood-soaked clothes. He walks slowly to the steps, letting me take in every inch of his body, muscled like a warrior and decorated with the black tattoos that flow across his chest and shoulders and up the sides of his neck. His mark shines among them, the gold mace catching the candlelight.
Sparks hiss and die in the ripples shrouded by the smoke behind him as he enters the pool. His snakeskin wings fan across the surface, floating in his wake like a shimmering cloak.
“They’re beautiful,” I whisper, reaching out when he draws close to touch the glittering light between the scales that glows even under water. The fire dims where my fingers trace the curves of the soft, laminated skin. Ashen closes his eyes as though my touch soothes something painful. “They hurt?”
“Yes. They burn. But it’s a pain that becomes addictive.” Ashen’s eyes are still closed as I trace another line of light and a deep breath fills his lungs. “I fell so far into darkness that it was the only thing I wanted to feel. Fury kept me from madness. It gave me purpose as much as it gave me pain. Your touch reminds me that there are better things than rage.”
“You didn’t need my touch to remember that,” I say, watching as another curve of light dims beneath my fingertips.
