Page 39 of Daughter of the Dark

And then she heard one word, a word she had heard endlessly in her dreams.

Ñakapana.

It was a wash of cool water over her soul, but it was the dagger that offered her comfort. That stung her hand and tethered her to the mortal realm. That reminded her who she truly was.

“Beautiful,” she heard the king say, his voice like a warning bell in her mind.

Someone slipped their arms under Solana’s and dragged her backward. There was a pop at her side, bone cracking and flesh shredding as something tore free, and then cool hands were on her face. “Look at me,” Reyes said, gently cradling her head, forcing her eyes to find his. “Solana, look at me,” he repeated.

Slowly, she blinked away the shadows and found Reyes’s face. This close, she could only see his somber eyes and the thick lashes that rimmed them. Concern bled from the creases at the corners. They darted frantically between hers, searching just like they had so many times before. She hoped he would see her rage, her resentment. Because somehow, though he had sold her out to the king, she felt his hands hold her still and felt safe. Clung to him as if he were a boulder in the middle of a raging sea.

“I’m taking her,” she heard him say. The features of his face drifted away, and then she was moving, every part of her body screaming in protest that fell on deaf ears. Perhaps because she wasn’t protesting at all.

In fact, Solana thought she might be dying, and there was nothing she could do about it as she lost hold of the light.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Every blink lasted longer, to the point where she was sure she would next open her eyes and see the world through a lens of shadow and mist, feel insatiable hunger and irrepressible vengeance.

What she saw instead was firelight dancing on dark stone. Heavy green curtains draped carelessly over a large window, a sliver of the dusky sky peeking through. A wall of flesh with a rapidly beating heart pressed against her cheek, the scent of smoke and earth filling her nose, even after it pulled away and was replaced by a soft surface.

A bed, she realized distantly, the sheets and throws delicate and luxurious against her sensitive skin. Every breath she took was labored. Every thought sluggish. When Reyes’s face appeared above hers, she couldn’t tell if it was a nightmare or a dream. His hands pressed into her arms, pinned her to the bed like prey trapped beneath a predator.

With whatever strength she had left, Solana bucked her body and kicked her legs, tried to dislodge him and free herself from his grip, but it tightened, and then it spread, his hold on her reaching further than she could fight. She was tired, and the dark was whispering, encouraging her to let go, to slip away, to be free.

Ususi, ususi, ususiiiiiiii.

But she couldn’t give in. Death would only further ensnare her in its cursed teeth, and she refused to be another meal.

Cool hands slipped over her cheeks and held her still. “Look at me,” Reyes demanded, the command familiar, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not going to hurt you, but you need to let my gift in. Tell me yes, Solana.”

The fog of her panic parted slightly, and her eyes focused on Reyes’s face—the grim line of his mouth, the furrow in his brow, the lock of silver that had slipped over his churning gray eyes. The warmth and concern there, once again aimed at her.

The intensity of it was startling. All she could do was wrap her hands around his wrists to brace herself and nod vigorously. Her whole body shook in anticipation, and it wasn’t until Reyes climbed onto the bed and hovered over her, his hands on her cheeks, his forehead pressed to hers, and said, “I need to hear you say it,” that she was able to speak.

“Yes,” she hissed through chattering teeth. “Do it.”

Without his gift, she knew that she would die. Already, she could feel her life slipping between each blink, blood filling her chest so that every breath was wet and thick.

Above her, Reyes closed his eyes and let out a long exhale, his breath washing her in familiarity, a dichotomy of fear and eagerness swirling in her belly.

“Forgive me,” he whispered.

And then she felt the first touch of his gift like fingers prodding in curiosity, finding the source of her death and surging to mend.

Solana tried to loosen her grip on herself, tried to let him in, but old habits were hard to break, and his gift was forced to pry beneath her stubborn will. It felt like he was slicing into the softest parts of her and pouring ice into her veins. A demon’s poison couldn’t kill her, but perhaps this would.

It was sharp and invasive, poking and prodding and mending until she wasn’t sure what was worse—being broken or being put back together again. She was drowning beneath the frigid waters. Clawing for every breath. Frantic to reach the light that promised warmth and peace.

Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did, and she cried out, begging Reyes with words like please and stop and release me. His body held her down, his gift filled her, his scent surrounded her, smoky and cold and terrifyingly familiar.

Solana was lost to it, to the sundering. Another moment that broke her from one path and pushed her onto another. A divide of her soul that would change her forever.

Eventually the waters of his icy gift receded until all that was left behind was an achy tingle. A memory frozen into her bones and blood. An imprint to replace the one he had left before.

Reyes’s body bowed over hers, his shoulders heaving with every ragged breath. The hairs hanging over his forehead and eyes were wet from exertion, his chin tucked to his chest so she couldn’t see his eyes.

Carefully, she unwrapped a hand from his wrist and finally pushed her fingers through his hair. It was just as soft as she had imagined, and she gripped it as tight as her weakened hand would allow. “Did you know,” she started, the words just a whisper, “what the king was planning?”