My skin tingles as I realize that Sol is inside me still, surrounding me with his body, and filling me. He’s made his indelible mark on my mind, body, and soul. Now with this brand, I’ll be forever tied to him.
Lingering tension in my chest releases for the first time since I left Sol in the tunnels last week. A sense of peace settles over me. I rest my hand over his forearm banded around my chest and squeeze. The hard muscles enveloping me relax as he realizes I’ve forgiven him, too.
“I love you, mydémon de la musique.”
“I love you, my muse,” he purrs against my neck and kisses it.
I am Sol Bordeaux’s, and I can never be free.
And I’ve finally accepted that I don’t want to be.
Scene 32
HE DECIDED HIS FATE
Scarlett
Sol pauses outside a steel door in the underground tunnel and takes a deep breath before looking back at me. Concern wrinkles his unmasked brow. Even though it’s only been mere hours since we made up and my brand still stings under the bandage Sol tended me with, my lower belly flutters at the intense look in his midnight eye.
“You really don’t have to do this. You don’t need to see—”
I’m shaking my head before he can finish. “No. I’m here with you. You know my darkness.” I reach for his free hand and squeeze. “I can handle yours.”
“But my darkness—”
“Speaksto mine,” I interrupt. “The moon can’t glow without her night, Sol.”
“And now my night will never be so dark again,” he murmurs before pulling me in and kissing my head.
He swipes his phone and shoulders open the newly unlocked door. Cool air blows my hair back from my face and I’m grateful Sol had a long-sleeved black sweater, jeans, and tennis shoes for me to wear instead of my ripped dress. Evidently, he’s been compiling quite the collection of clothes for me over the past several months.
The room is dark with stone walls and floors. Next to the door is a large iron cage full of weapons. Along the right side is one of the runoff channels, although this one sounds faster than the others. This room is the closest to the Mississippi, Sol had explained, and I’m sure that open pipe is where the phantom breeze blew from when we first came in.
As soon as we step down the stairs, Sabine and Jaime stand from their chairs on the opposite sides of the room.
“Leave us,” Sol commands in a low tone.
Sabine’s lips barely lift at the corner as she walks past us. “I think the way I left him is poetic.”
Sol rumbles a laugh. “Quite the Shakespeare.”
Before Jaime follows her out, he hugs me. “So glad you’re safe,cher.” He pulls back with a smile. “Beignets, soon. Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I nod, matching his grin.
“Go,” Sol orders and Jaime drops his embrace immediately with a mock salute before meeting Sabine at the door.
When she closes it behind them, a loudclangreverberates off the walls and into my chest, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Sol steps to the side, revealing Rand. My eyes widen at the sight of him.
His mouth is duct taped and he’s tied to a chair in the center of the room, still fully clothed in his now ruffled red suit. Blood dampens where Sabine stabbed him with her dagger, but the injury doesn’t look lethal. Though the same can’t be said for the anger that blazes in his blue eyes as they track Sol across the room.
When I step forward, his gaze leaves Sol and lands on me. Even with the duct tape over his mouth, I can easily see the disgust marring his features.
Sol strides across the room and rips off the tape. Rand grunts before sneering in my direction.
“I should’ve known you’d go back to being the Phantom’s whore—”
Sol’s fist crashes into his face and the crack of knuckle against jaw bone makes me want to wince. From Sol’s hesitant glance back at me, he expected me to, but I keep my face carefully neutral.