Page 47 of In Between Death and the Devil

My hands slipped from his. “Did it work?”

“Yes.” He smiled. “Can you feel it?”

I opened my mouth to say I had no idea what he was talking about, but amidst all the sensations running through me, there was something other. Larger. Much larger. So vast I couldn’t comprehend its edges. It had no pulse or breath, yet it wasn’t stagnant. It moved, constantly shifting in minute ways. Right then, I felt it settle, like the bones of a house at night. I could sense a lingering tension at points, like the strain it had been under wasn’t gone, it just had eased.

Relief coursed through me, so strong I swayed on my feet.

The Devil reached out to steady me, and a rush of emotions flooded our connection. Concern, tenderness, fear, joy, hope, anger. There were so many, and they swirled through me so quickly, I stopped being able to name them. I couldn’t tell what was mine and what wasn’t. The room started to spin, and I collapsed against him.

I heard him groan.

The power in my chest unfurled, racing through my limbs. Hot and sharp, it felt poised to lash out. Please, not now, I thought. My pleas kept it from erupting, but it simmered under my skin, like an animal pacing with its eyes on a threat.

“I don’t—I can’t—” I panted, unable to catch my breath.

“Empty the room you constructed in your mind,” he said with a grunt. Shadows flowed from his hands, forming a thin barrier between us. His grip on me was strong and steady without being crushing, but I could feel him straining through our bond. As if he was trying to reel himself back in.

I squeezed my eyes shut and searched for the stone chamber. The walls had disintegrated, leaving only small pillars at the corners connecting the floor and ceiling. He was everywhere. Thoughts and images I didn’t recognize flickered through my mind, mingling with my own. With a great effort, I heaved the walls back into place, rebuilding and thickening them, shutting everything that belonged to him inside.

“Good. Now pull yourself from it. Shut me out.”

I imagined the outside of the stone room—a solid box in my mind. It took a few tries to stop thinking about what was inside, but once I did the maelstrom swirling through me diminished. I could still feel the Death Chord connecting us, the low hum in my chest, and a faint echo of him, but the only emotions and thoughts I felt were mine. The light under my skin faded, and my breathing slowed. I pulled myself upright, out of his grasp.

“Better?” he asked, his shadows vanishing. His voice was calm, but he was not. The gold flecks in his eyes swirled so fast they nearly eclipsed the brown of his irises, and a tangle of emotions roiled in our bond.

I nodded.

He let out a breath, turned and walked several paces away. Bracing his hands on his hips, his head dropped forward.

I stared at his heaving back, unnerved by his discomposure. Now that I could feel his emotions, I realized just how little I knew him.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “Our connection isn’t like anything I’ve experienced before. I didn’t realize how easy it would be to lose myself in it.”

“Will it be like that every time we… open up to each other?” I asked with a wince.

“No.” He turned back around, his eyes back to their normal brown. His regret and shame simmered in our bond. “I won’t let that happen again. I’ll be much more careful about what I share until we both get used to it.”

I huffed a laugh. Of course he would be careful about what he shared. So would I. How in the realms was I supposed to learn to trust him?

“And if it gets too overwhelming,” he continued, “pull back, just like you did. You can always shut me out.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It’ll become second nature. We just have to practice.”

“Great.” I never wanted to lose myself like that again.

“Let me show you.”

I looked at him skeptically.

“I’ve pulled back everything from our connection, so the room in your head is empty.” His sincerity resonated between us.

I didn’t want to check, I never wanted to go near that room ever again, but if I didn’t, I would always live in fear of it. So I mentally tiptoed in, bracing myself. My shoulders lowered a fraction when I found it bare, just as he said it would be.

“I’m going to communicate with you through our bond, sending you one thought. Just one. Nothing more. Okay?”

I nodded stiffly.