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I never set out to hurt you.No matter how much I will my lips to move, to speak through the ragged sobs that barrel through me, that shred me to pieces, I can’t force the words out.
Asmo pulls my hands away, his amber gaze searching my face for answers he likely won’t find. “If this is too fast… If I'm pressuring you in any way, it's okay to tell me. I won't be upset.” He wipes the tears from cheeks with his sleeve. Slowly, he sets his forehead against mine, closing his eyes. “Just tell me how to make it better… How do I make you smile again?”
My lips tremble as I drag in a shaky breath. “I’m so sorry…”
He sits back, brows knitted together.Gods, those eyes…The sheer innocence in them, the desire to comfort me, it’s like a dagger driving through my heart. “What do you possibly have to be sorry about?”
“I never told you how I ended up at Grim’s Keep,” I say, pressing my lips together, desperately trying to push the tears down.
“What do you mean? You were stranded. Banished.” He shakes his head, his eyes dropping as if he’s searching his memories, trying to put the pieces together.
“You said that, not me.”
“No…” He jaw feathers as he shakes his head. I don’t think he wants to believe it, but he seems to have guessed where this is going.
“You have to believe me when I say that I didn’t know what he did to your people.” I wipe at my cheeks, sniffling as I steel myself. “Our ship was attacked by a sea monster and my betrothed rowed off in the only lifeboat. He left me for dead. I’d nearly drowned and I saw a way out of having to marry him by letting my father and my people think I had.”
Asmo’s knee bounces as if it’s taking everything he has to remain in his seat and not pace around the room. I attempt to grip his hand but he jerks it away, lifting his gaze to mine. Hisamber eyes are cold, emotionless as he stares at me, like he can see straight through to my soul. “Say it.”
Swallowing hard, I let myself look away. “I’m Valeria Nightborn, the Duchess of Vanderlyth.”
Asmo recoils as if I've struck him. His eyes blaze, flickering between man and demon as he pushes up from his seat, pacing a moment before turning his back to me.
"Asmo, please…" I reach for him but stop just shy of touching his arm. “Please let me explain.”
He whirls on me, fangs bared. “Explain? If you want to explain something then why is your hair dark? All of the original elven families, especially someone as highborn as the elf lord’s daughter, have silver hair and silver eyes. Yours are green.”
I flinch at the venom in his tone, wrapping my arms around myself. “That’s because I died,” I say, the words a whisper as they leave my lips.
Every part of him stills, like he’s been petrified into a statue. “Died? Died how?”
“Our people, since the Realm of Monsters has collapsed, have been getting sick. We used to banish those who showed signs of it to the prison realm, and it kept the rest of our islands safe. We lose our color first, our skin becomes a dark gray, and as the sickness advances, our hair turns black. For some, that’s as far as it goes. The survivors were called dark elves, and they lose the ability to channel stones. Instead, they get their magic by stealing it from other creatures. However, most of those affected continue to wither away. It’s like our hearts shrivel up and die and our bodies begin to reflect the decay.”
“I don’t understand,” he says, brows flattening as he attempts to wrap his head around it. “I've seen you channel your pendant.”
“My brother and I caught the illness. Our mother had taken us to the market and the next day, my older brother turned gray,and was riddled with fever. I wasn’t long after him.” Rising from my seat, I pivot smoothly, coaxing the straps of my dress down over my shoulders to unveil the phoenix on my back to him. “When I took my last breath, my mother made a bargain with the Grim Reaper. She traded her life for him to make me immortal, to bring me back. I woke up floating in the pool beneath our sacred caverns, my skin was back to normal, but my hair was dark, and when I saw my face and phoenix branded on my flesh, I knew my father would hate me because I looked like a half-breed.”
“How old were you?” He says, helping me bring the straps to my dress back over my shoulders.
“Five.” I turn to face him, bowing my head in defeat. “My father lost his heir and he’s never let me forget that my mother sacrificed herself for the wrong child.”
“Alice knows, doesn’t she?” he asks, stepping away from me.
I can't tear my gaze away as he threads an agitated hand into his blue-black waves. The motion pulls fly away from the bun the top-half of it has been tied into. The heavy rings adorning his fingers catch the glow of the mage lights, shining through his dark strands. He's muttering under his breath, too low for me to hear, but the furrowing of his brow speaks of the deep turmoil within him.
“She has to know,” he says, shaking his head. “That phoenix is what she put on the Grim’s Keep banners. That’s how she knew your name… She knew exactly who you were the moment she laid eyes on you. It’s why she lied to the court, because she’s seen your face and would have to admit that you’re here, in the damn room.”
“Yes…” I nod, but I don’t bring my head up. “She confronted me about it at the keep yesterday. I guess, in her scrying, she’d never seen my face.” As I reach for his hand once more, hesnatches it away. His eyes are filled with a mixture of rage and sorrow.
"Don't touch me," he growls, starting for the door.
“I’m so sorry…” The tears sting my eyes, rolling down my cheeks once more.
But this time, he’s not here to wipe them away.
Asmo crosses the room with lethal grace, pausing as he reaches the door to cast a glance over his shoulder. “Take a left when you leave, the hallway will lead you to the dining room.”
Just like that, he’s gone. He vanishes out the door, and I'm alone, clutching a heavy heart and fragments of hope that only his sweet kisses have the power to reassemble.
