Page 92 of The City Of Fractured Memory

Realisation dawns on me like I’ve been plunged into the icy waters of Lake Voyd. “You were showing me everything from the beginning. I can’t believe I didn’t see it. You even had those damn diadems and Cyril’s crucible right in plain sight the first time I stepped into your office!”

He chuckles darkly. “Yes, that was particularly fun. When you accused me of being the murderer, I did wonder if their presence had factored into your equation.”

I inwardly curse myself at the fact that I didn’t. That’s why there were three diadems—he had already removed one from the third victim before he died. I frown as I process that. “So, the third victim, he was–”

“Left in the street, yes. I was taking him home when I had a sudden vision; I saw your impending death at that brothel. I damn near lost my mind. I took the diadem from his head, like the others, and I ran straight to you.”

“That’s why you asked me what I’d figured out about the murders, you were trying to work out how much I knew?”

He nods again. “I knew I had to do something to point you in the right direction, but then Vesper…I honestly have no idea how she came to be involved. As far as I’m aware, her and Xavier were never privy to information about the cult like I was. I was going to see her body for myself, to try and figure it out, but then Xavier accused me of her murder and attacked me. I saw the doubt in your eyes then, and I worried I’d taken this too far, luring you in. So when you marched into my office to interrogate me, I was drunk enough that I thought being honest with you about my true identity would be a good idea.”

“Considering it led us here, I’d agree,” I say with a wary smile, and the look of relief on his face is almost heartbreaking. “Why did you have to resort to these stupid gimmicks, though? Why couldn’t you just find a way to tell me instead of leaving breadcrumbs for me to follow?”

His expression turns grave. “Like I said, they would have killed you. The prophecy foretold you were the key, but which way you would turn was completely unknown. If they discovered I’d told you the truth about them, no doubt they would have killed you. I had hoped the murders would bring you to the truth instead, as well as my other clues. As a detective, you were safe to investigate without being looked on suspiciously.”

“Yes, Stryx said something similar, though her version of guidance seems to be a little less intrusive than yours,” I mutter as I rub my hands over my eyes, trying to make sense of it all.

“Well, you can’t say it wasn’t effective,” he jokes, but it falls flat.

“This is completely insane,” I groan, closing my eyes as I let my head fall back against the wall. He stays silent, and I crack an eye open to find him staring at me sadly.

“What is it?” I whisper, anxiety roiling through me at his pained expression.

He slowly stands up and offers me his hand. I take it and he pulls me up so I’m standing inches from him. He runs his hand over my shoulder, smoothing out the creases in my cloak with a frown.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you. When you bumped into me in that alley after the first murder, I tried to act all nonchalant, but inside, I thought I was going to lose it,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “And now you’re here, and you finally know the truth, I thought I’d feel happy or relieved. But I just feel…guilty.”

My heart aches as I study his beautiful face. He’s done some truly awful things—things I can’t ignore—but as I see the pain in his eyes, I know in my soul he has remorse for his actions. And this bond between us isn’t imagined. He clearly cares for me, enough to have been looking out for me this whole time. Even if he does have a messed up way of showing it. I don’t know if my confused feelings about him come from me, or from this bond we seem to share from our unique biology, but right now, I can’t find it in me to care. My entire world has turned upside down, and right now, he is the only thing anchoring me to my sanity.

I tentatively brush my fingers against his chest, the pain in his eyes too much to bear. “I feel like we are both in serious need of a hug or something,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

He frowns. “A hug?”

“Yes, you know, what normal people do when they try to comfort each other?”

“I’m not normal.”

“Neither am I,” I laugh, but as I look at his deadpan expression, a thought occurs. An awful, heartbreaking thought that makes me lose my smile instantly.

“Riven, have you ever been hugged before?”

He shakes his head. “My step mother wasn’t exactly affectionate. My family kept me more like a pet, not a child. I guess I got so used to a lack of love I never thought to seek it in others.”

Tears prick at my eyes at his confession, and he tilts his head at me with a frown. “That upsets you?”

Of course it does. But I don’t answer with words. Instead, I do the thing I usually hate so much, and slowly wrap my arms around him, holding him tight. He stands completely motionless, like he’s not even breathing, but then slowly he starts to relax, and his arms tentatively weave round me too. We stand there silently, holding each other, and to my utter shock, the anxiety I usually feel at being touched doesn’t surface. If anything, it feels…right.

“Why do you always wear this?” he murmurs, bringing a hand up to tug on my hood.

“It helps me avoid the unwanted attention my hair brings,” I answer, my voice muffled against his chest as I let him pull it off my head.

“Fuck what other people think,” he growls, his lips against my hair. “It’s beautiful.”

A tear rolls down my cheek and my breathing steadies, Riven’s thumbs brushing gently against the fabric of my cloak, grounding me. The trembling in my limbs begins to ease, replaced by a different kind of shakiness entirely.

He exhales, a rough, quiet sound—part relief, part frustration. “I couldn’t see you in my visions once you crossed into Lunoreth. I thought something happened to you,” he breathes.

I wrap my arms around him tighter and he pulls me closer, slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid I’ll shatter. I sink into him, feeling the way his heartbeat kicks hard beneath my cheek. His breath feathers against my hair, sending a shudder down my spine.