“Margo!” Aeren grabbed Margo’s wrist with both hands and yanked her back hard. “Enough. We’ve all made the shitty decisions that got us here.” Her voice was calmer, but she didn’t release the other woman. “Believe me, I feel for Emmaline. I do. But she broke the bond. That should’ve killed him. Can you blame him for being pissed? For wanting to get away?”
Emmaline barely heard them. Everything outside the edges of her vision had faded into static, her whole world narrowing to Deyric’s emerald eyes because, this time, he didn’t look away.
She exhaled, and somewhere, or everywhere, a bell rang. Soft at first, so high-pitched it was more a shimmer in the air than a sound.
A breeze brushed Emmaline’s cheek, cool and barely there, just enough to raise the fine hairs along her skin. It shouldn’t have been possible. They were deep underground, the air thick and stale with wine and stone dust. But the breeze was real. She felt it.
Deyric felt it, too. She could see it in the way his head snapped up, and his eyes widened, raising a hand to his cheek. But Margo and Aeren kept arguing, oblivious.
The shadows shifted, pooling and stretching, and from their depths,Shestepped forward. It was Cassidy, who had probably been in the back room with Ursula—but not Cassidy. Her body moved like a marionette on threads, each motion too smooth, too inevitable, like the bones beneath her skin had forgotten they belonged to a mortal.
Your task is nearly complete.
The voice didn’t come from Cassidy’s mouth. It came from Emmaline’s own chest, vibrating deep in her ribs as though something had wrapped its fingers around her heart and squeezed. It poured through her—lush and golden, sunlight thick enough to drownin—each beam edged with something darker, the scrape of nails on bone, a lullaby hummed at the mouth of a grave.
Emmaline closed her eyes, then opened them, and she felt, no,sawthe Goddess blink with her—one eye blazing white, the other a pit of endless black. Life and death. Light and darkness. All steeped in blood.
Finish it.
The words slammed through her skull. She gasped, hands flying to her ears, trying to block it out, but the sound wasn’t coming from the room. It was inside her.
She forced her eyes open, vision swimming, and found Deyric staring back. He was looking at her, and through her, and at something far beyond her all at once. His face mirrored hers—stunned, shaken—but he nodded, tears shimmering unshed.
What was broken can be mended. In blood.
The Goddess’s words rang between them, a verdict passed, a sentence laid down.
Emmaline’s legs shook, her whole body folding under the weight of it.Not again, she thought.
The floor tilted, rushing up to meet her, and suddenly his hands were there, sliding under her arms, pulling her upright before her knees hit the stone. One arm slid around her waist, holding her with effortless strength, while his free hand found her face, thumb touching her cheek, tracing over her skin like he was seeing her for the very first time.
“You want this?” Deyric cupped her face, not gently, but like she might disappear if he let go, his fingers sinking into her tangled hair, holding her still. “You want me?”
Emmaline’s hands fisted in his jacket, the only solid thing between her and falling apart. She searched his face. Was this some cruel trick? Another punishment from the Goddess who seemed to delight in dangling happiness just out of reach?
“Emmaline.” His brow furrowed. “There won’t be another chance. If… if you want this, you have to say it.”
Her breath left her in a shuddering exhale. Even if this was a trick, even if the Goddess was watching and laughing, it didn’t matter. Not if it meant seeing him look at her like that—like she was the only thing he wanted in this broken world. She’d say anything to keep him from turning away.
“I want you—everything you’ll give me.” She dragged him closer. “I’ll take it like the greedy lunatic I am. I’ll worship it—every second, every touch—and just when you think I’ve had my fill, I’ll beg for more.”
His eyes closed. They opened, and then there was no air between them. His mouth slammed into hers, all teeth and heat, hands in her hair, pulling hard enough to sting. Her back hit the wine rack, bottles clattering, but she didn’t care. She yanked him flush against her body, fingers biting into his shoulders, their breath tangling as if they could devour every inch of each other.
It was a reclamation, a brand seared into skin and soul, a demand and a surrender all at once. The cellar walls trembled as the bell rang—three sharp, clear notes that came from nowhere and everywhere, vibrating through the stone, through their bones, through the press of his body against hers.
The third bell strike faded, leaving only the faint creak of the old wine rack behind Emmaline and the soft rustle of fabric as Deyric’s forehead rested against hers.
A voice cut through the quiet. “You two done, or should I find a bucket of cold water?”
Emmaline jerked back just far enough to look past Deyric’s shoulder. Cassidy stood at the edge of the lantern glow, cradling her head. One hand rubbed the back of her neck, fingers kneading the skin.
“You okay?” Emmaline asked, her voice still rough around the edges.
Cassidy rolled her shoulders, something in her spine cracking loud enough to echo. “Been worse. But I’m not the one who turned into a lightning rod just to suck face with my ex instead of handling the bastard we actually came here to torture.” She looked between them, brow arching. “Are we wrapping this up, or should I go brew some tea while you two work out your unresolved issues? And don’t forget, Margo still needs to file her damn report with the Patrol.”
Deyric didn’t answer. His knuckles skimmed her jaw, the edge of his thumb lingering just long enough for her pulse to flutter beneath the skin.
Emmaline eased back first, though only far enough to draw a breath that didn’t taste like him. She glanced up, meeting his eyes one more time, holding there for a beat longer than she should have. “We finish what we came here to do. Then we figure out the rest.”
