Luella just… stared at him, committing his features to memory. Her mind was addled, overcome by her slipping sanity. Her eyes flicked over his nose, slightly hooked; his jaw, a little too sharp; his strong brow and deep-set eyes. And she swore to remember his face, because she wouldn’t dare ask for his name.
She didn’t know what the Umbra saw in her eyes, on her face, but whatever it was, it made the male take a step back, turning sharply as he led his horse far away from her.
She was only dimly aware of another piece of the puzzle slotting into place in her mind’s eye: the Umbra weren’t under the Tenebrae’s full control.
She had seen fragments of evidence, scattered here and there. But the Tenebrae had told her not to speak to anyone, yet an Umbra had approached her. If he truly wanted to forbid it, he could have commanded it—yet he hadn’t. Their thoughts were not coalesced; there was no gestalt intellect.
It seemed even gods were not all-powerful.
She smiled, then jolted as she felt a whisper of awareness at her back. Feeling stretched thin, she slowly turned her head, only to see red eyes peering at her.
Bastian was perched on the rump of the horse, legs kicking out as his flowing dark breeches rippled in an imaginary breeze. His silken black hair was tousled, rings in his ears sparkling. Fangs flashed as he traced the tip of his tongue over the front of his teeth.
"Luella," Bastian sighed, fingers settling on the back of the saddle as his nose drifted over her hair. She saw it, but didn’t feel it. However, her mind worked to fill in the blanks, imagining the rustle of her hair from his breath. "You look so delectable, perched upon this steed like some sacrifice poised to be sent off into the mountains. I wonder what awaiting monsters will greet you…"
"You’re not real," she whispered. And though her voice was a whisper, it still drew the attention of nearby Umbra. Their shadowed eyes were curious as they watched her—her head slightly turned, lips barely moving, shoulders tense, and cape bunched around her like her own fragile suit of arms.
Bastian sighed, and she swore she felt it against her back, the sound loud in the air. "When will you learn? I am as real as you believe me to be. Just think, one day you will go so mad you won’t question it anymore."
"Are you from him—the Tenebrae?" Luella could barely get the words out. She’d wondered, every time an apparition came to her, were they still being sent by the Tenebrae? Or had her mind latched onto any sense of familiarity she could find, conjuring the images of her Vincire for some sense of comfort?
She didn’t know. Couldn’t begin to understand the way a mind worked, teetering on the cusp between sanity and insanity.
Bastian smiled, and his fangs left little dips in his plush bottom lip. "What do you think?"
A clang of metal drew her attention away from him, toward the Umbra, where the Tenebrae stalked through the crowd, eyesalready upon her, brow furrowing as he spied her open lips, as if she were just in the middle of speaking to?—
Luella turned back around and found the space empty. Bastian was gone.
Hands landed on her thighs. She jumped.
"Who were you talking to?" the Tenebrae demanded, black hair fluttering in the wind.
She was suddenly reminded that at one time she’d first mistaken him for Bastian. It was evident now, the dark hair, the pale skin, but that was where the similarities ended. Even a vampire, Bastian was warm and—andkind. To her, at least. The god who wore the flesh of Caliban was not. He’d turned Caliban’s warmth into a frigid pit of nothingness.
"N-no one," she managed, voice a meek whisper of air.
He did not seem convinced, but he placed his foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself atop the horse, settling close at her back. The saddle shifted and groaned, and her hands scrambled for a grip on the pommel, fingers twisting painfully.
His chest pressed into the line of her back, and she whimpered as it forced agony into her being.
His hand firmly cupped the base of her throat, digging into the collar, until her head tipped back, baring her vulnerable neck to the watching crowd of Umbra.
She jolted as he boomed into the crowd:
"My Umbra, we ride to the Lunar Temples, where I will wed the conquered Princess, Luella Eritrais ofLuna."
The crowd cheered, watching with glee the position she was forced into.
Reins snapped, horses huffed, and hooves beat a trodden path against the flowers as the procession began to ride on.
The Tenebrae lingered back, lips cold against her ear, teeth dragging over the tip of it, as he whispered, "This will not be apleasant ride. If you behave, after we are wed, I will give you a much more pleasant one."
"I don’t know what you mean…"
But Luella’s voice was drowned out by the sharp call ripped from his throat, as he snapped the reins and the horse was driven forward.
The first pounding fall of the hooves against the flower field, and she immediately knew what he’d meant.
