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The Headmistress went on relentlessly. “So I ask again—why would one marked for death act so foolishly, sneaking about unprotected?” Her hawk-eyed scrutiny awaited my reply.
But before I could form a response, Rhys appeared at my bedside, scowling. “Death threats? Sera, I think you and I need to talk.” His protective fury warmed me even through my turmoil.
I looked between them helplessly. Rhys deserved answers, but where did I even begin?
“I think so too,” I managed finally. Taking Rhys’ hand, I sat up and groaned in pain. I then turned to meet the Headmistress’ flinty stare unflinchingly. “But right now I need rest to finish healing, as you can see. So if you’ll kindly excuse us...”
For a suspended moment, it seemed she might refuse, forcing the issue here and now. But then, remarkably, she inclined her head in acquiescence. “Very well. I will speak with you both soon to get to the bottom of this.” With a swish of skirts, she departed, leaving stunned relief in her wake.
Alone with Rhys again, the weight of revelations pressed down. Rhys kept my hand clasped firmly in his, brows drawn together in concern. Before I could speak, movement caught my eye—his shattered granite wings were slowly regrowing before my baffled gaze, stone knitting seamlessly back together.
“How is this possible?” I gasped.
Rhys gave a rueful grin. “One of the few perks of being a gargoyle. I can regenerate from nearly any injury given enough time.” His expression darkened again. “But you cannot evade this subject any longer. Someone is hunting you?” He squeezed my hand tighter. “Why did you not tell me?”
I could only shake my head wordlessly, still stunned by the impossibility of his rehealed wings. Rhys took my chin gently, waiting until I met his earnest eyes again. “No more secrets between us, my brave one. Now speak.”
I let out a shaky breath, gripping his hand like a lifeline. “You’re right. No more secrets.” I had to trust Rhys completely from here on. Steeling myself, I began unraveling the ominous truth I had learned.
I shook my head helplessly. “Now I must ask the same of you.” I met his shuttered gaze. “When were you going to share that you’re cursed to turn to stone forever?”
Rhys paled, looking caught out. “Who told you that?” he demanded.
“Is it true then?” I pressed. After a moment he closed his eyes, shoulders slumping.
“Yeah… it’s true,” he admitted heavily. “I did not burden you with it because well... I have accepted my fate, even if I railed against it at first. There’s no fighting some things.” His bleak words pierced my heart. I gripped his hand fiercely, as if my touch alone could stave off his dark future.
“I don’t accept that,” I declared vehemently. “Now that I know, we’ll find a way to break this curse.”
Rhys searched my face, tentative hope dawning behind the shadows in his eyes. “You truly believe you can help me reclaim my future?” His vulnerable uncertainty undid me. I rose, embracing his taut form fiercely, mindless of my lingering aches.
“Have faith in us,” I whispered. “If we stand together, no curse-born darkness can defeat us.” I felt his slow smile against my hair.
“With you by my side, I’m starting to believe that too,” he admitted softly. We stayed enfolded in each other’s arms, drawing strength for the fight ahead.
The road was uncertain, but we would walk it together from now on. And united, no barrier seemed insurmountable anymore.
CHAPTER11
Sera
That night,I drifted slowly up from void-like sleep into soft moonlight, the last shreds of confusing nightmares fading away. As waking awareness grew, the hair on my neck prickled—I was not alone. Tension coiled through me until my eyes focused on the silent figure sitting vigil at my bedside, watching over me as I slept. Rhys.
My heart swelled with gratitude and wonder to find him, this dark angel who had saved me in so many unseen ways. I longed to lay bare my soul completely to him.
Relief swept through me as my foggy mind clung to the last vestiges of my dream—the snarevine’s attack, the arduous journey back, collapsing exhausted and battered into Rhys’ protective arms... We’d been through so much on our own and now faced these trials together.
Sensing my return to consciousness, Rhys leaned in, the depths of his dark eyes roiling with emotions too profound to grasp. “Forgive me, I couldn’t bear to leave you unguarded,” he rasped, shaking fingers brushing a lock of hair from my face.
My heart stuttered, nerves sparking wherever we made contact. “There’s nothing to forgive,” I whispered. Being near him was comfort enough to chase away the lingering night’s shadows. I lifted my hand to his cheek, drawing him down to me.
Rhys inhaled sharply as our lips met, then wrapped me in his powerful embrace, one clawed hand tangling gently in my hair. I sighed into his mouth, the kiss affirming we were both miraculously whole and alive after the narrowest of escapes from oblivion’s maw.
We clung hungrily together, flooded with relief and the dizzying realization of how much we stood to lose. I traced my fingertips over the sharp angles of his beloved face, relearning every curve and hard plane, before losing myself once more in his searing kiss.
The evening drifted unheeded as we lavished one another with tenderness, hands gliding reverently over backs, hips, shoulders... any patch of vulnerable skin laid bare, exulting in the ability to still give and receive touch. The snarevine had come so close to rending us violently apart. But now, we healed each other with gentle caresses, reassuring our battered hearts with breath and lips and whispered words of solace. The rest of the world faded away outside this sheltering circle.
“I want you, Seraphina,” Rhys murmured, warm breath fanning my cheek. His hand rose to cup my jaw with exquisite tenderness, lethal claws whisper-soft against my skin.
