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“Ash Nevra said… well before she did that to me… she said that Amon was my mate.” I whispered. The word ‘mate’ was foreign in my mouth, but somehow, when I applied the term to Amon, it felt so bone-crushingly right. Meredith and Kasha exchanged another look.
“Yes. He’s known for a long time. I kept telling him to just tell you, but he wasn’t sure you would be happy to hear the news. I thought for sure when I walked in on you two in bed together the other day, he had finally told you. Guess not.”
“Why would he think I would be unhappy?” I asked, my voice shaking. As soon as I said it, I actually contemplated what the word mate meant to daemons. Amon had told me that it was a lifelong commitment. An intense and fierce partnership, one that was so all-consuming, to some, it felt like a prison. I thought of spending the rest of my immortal life by Amon’s side and wondered if I would feel trapped.
I didn’t see how I possibly could. An eternity of being held by a daemon who looked at me the way he did didn’t seem awful at all. In fact, now that I had the idea in my head, I couldn’t stand the thought of it being any other way. Did he think spending an eternity with me would feel like a prison? My blood went cold at the thought.
“I think that’s something you need to ask him yourself,” Kasha said softly. I nodded. She was right.
“I have to go,” I said, standing up. Meredith and Kasha both nodded solemnly, and I set off to find not Amon, the Dark Prince of Pride, but Amon, my mate.
64
First, I showered and took off the now horribly wrinkled chiffon gown. It seemed a shame that it was so heavily tainted with sickening memories. I didn’t think I would ever be able to wear it again. I slipped into a comfortable pair of black cotton pants and the oversize knit sweatshirt that I loved to loop my thumbs through before heading to Amon’s room.
Feeling through the door with my aura, I quickly realized he wasn’t there. Not having a clue where else I might find him, I resolved to wait until he came back. I pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside. As I walked past his desk, which was still covered in prophecies, one of them whispered to me. I frowned. The words of this prophecy were familiar. I had heard them before.
Drifting over to the desk, I riffled through the pages until I found the one that was calling out to me. My hand rose to my mouth as I read.
A Crisis of Pride
- Prophet Margaret, (c.1933)
You are mine, said the Prince,
cradling his swaddling of twilight
My queen, my slave, my lover, my friend, the Prince
says as he rocks his shadow, back, back, back
Let us walk through worlds, he whispers
I will teach you to move planets, how to reorder the stars,
to become nighttime itself,
how to speak the language of the dead
I will lay your adversaries at your feet
You have freed me, I will try to free you, says the Prince,
Although your burden is one I cannot bear
I cannot save you from grief, but I can teach you to heal
I can show you how the ground moves beneath your feet
And to slip through the wind, as light as darkness
My salvation, my heart, my friend, my ward,
Let us learn each other’s bodies, and
run our fingers through one another’s minds
We will dance, leap, writhe and play
