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“Augustus.”
My heart gave a hard thud, and when I glanced back at Jericho, I caught his frown. I’d never spoken of my father in front of Elyon before. Not so much as a word about him. Whenever I’d grieved his absence, it’d always been in private. “Um. Who is Augustus?”
Elyon chuckled, running his finger over the butterfly’s wings. “You don’t know your father’s name?”
Another glance back at Jericho, and I swallowed a gulp. “When did … when did he tell you this?”
“A while ago.”
Every hair on my skin stood on end, and I shifted on the blanket in my intrigue. “Where?”
The butterfly flew off into the sky, and Elyon lifted his head, watching it flutter higher, its colors bright enough to see against the blinding overcast.
“Elyon? Where did you talk to him?”
He pointed to his head.
“In your mind?”
He nodded.
“Do you speak with him often?” It was Jericho who asked the question that time, and Elyon nodded in response.
“He tells me stories sometimes. Of the witch’s daughter and the baron. And Pentacrux, too. Can I go play with Cicatrix again?”
I reached out to squeeze his hand and smiled. “Of course.”
When he ran off, Cerberus darting after him, the smile on my face faded. “How?”
“Perhaps a vinculum bond. Sometimes, demons are able to form a similar bond with humans.”
“He’s only a small fraction of demon, isn’t he?”
“Yes. And angel. And human, too. Who knows what powers have evolved in him.”
“Is it real? I mean, is it possible we’ll be able to communicate with him? And my father still being alive?” As in, not having been cast intoabsolutedeath.
“Yes. It’s real. And if Elyon can tell us which demon has claimed his soul, perhaps we can strike a deal with the Noxerians.”
“You think they’d entertain such a thing? They didn’t when you asked about my soul, right?”
“I’ve since essentially saved the fate of all five realms. I should be able to ask for anything my fucking heart desires, don’t you think?” His comment made me smile only cautiously, but damn that glimmer of hope that glowed inside of me again.
“Personally, I think they should make you king, or something.”
“I’d be a horrible, selfish king.” He ran his hand across my thigh, and my muscles clenched, primed and titillated by his touch. “Ignoring all my responsibilities to keep my queen happy.”
“Your queen is happier than she’s ever been.”
“And so shall it be for eternity.” Cupping my cheek, he leaned forward and kissed me.
“Eternity.”
It was a span I couldn’t fathom. An endless horizon of perpetual sunrises and sunsets. Could one grow weary of such beauty? Tire of the moon and stars? Perhaps, but for then, I felt an almost gluttonous sense of contentment. A feeling beyond what I’d always known as love, as Jericho had once said. One that encompassed the all-consuming passion, devotion, the utter chaos of emotions that exploded inside of me whenever he was near.
All my life, I’d studied symbols and their meanings. I’d spent countless hours dissecting the way we associated emotions with particular words and objects. Turned out, the most complex and fulfilling, the intensity of what lovecouldbe, was more than just a scrawled heart on a page. More than the simplicity of affection and longing, caring and nurturing. I’d come to know there was a shadowed side of it, too. A much darker version, comprised of obsession, pain, and the unflinching readiness to sacrifice.
The single-minded selfishness to save one person over the good of the whole.
My definition of love had evolved into a multifaceted enigma, with endless planes sharp enough to cut me open, but strong enough to heal. From the heights of ecstasy to the abysmal depths of crushing pain, it was the most exquisite dichotomy. The only thing in the world which had the power to transcend time and death. And how fortunate I was to have found it twice:
In life and the after.
