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“I know. Why does my mortal woman think I had Orlaigh provide cloth and braise for it?” Something I might have called considerate if I wasn’t the prisoner of a lusty god. “How curious of you to call yourself unclean for something so… natural.”
“Helfa forbids a man to lie with his wife while she’s impure.”
I flinched at my words.
I shouldn’t have said that. Enosh hated few things more than talk about another taking his place beyond the Æfen Gate. On a much more serious note, I also shouldn’t have said it because I wasn’t his damn wife.
“Iam your god.” Where I expected rage in his voice, I only found the slightly elevated pitch of a smile, as if he were so very pleased with how I’d called myself his wife. “And I see nothing impure about you or the act we share as man and woman while you bleed.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Very well. I’ll give you this one concession, my little wife.”
My pulse thudded faster.
Did he truly spare me the indignity?
Because I’d called myself his wife?
That… scared me.
I rubbed at my tired eyes. “I’m not your wife.”
“Indeed, you never gave me your vow.”
A sudden heaviness settled on my shoulder, followed by a voice I’d almost forgotten. Almost.
“Flesh and scar and skin and bone, feed her body to the throne,”the voice sing-songed into my left ear before it shifted to the other, curdling the blood in my veins.“Sweat and breath and soul and flaw, my brother surely… fucked… you… raw.”
My skin crawled wherever muscles tightened. I was mad, mentally unwell. My mind drained from the dullness and monotony of this place; why else would I now hear voices?
At the very first shiver gripping my arms, Enosh cupped my cheek, bringing my eyes to meet his. “Why is your heart racing?”
My shoulders hiked toward my ears, but it did nothing to ward off the cacophony of whispers hushing through my skull.“Heart and blood and veins and death, the third will come and steal your breath.”
“What’s this voice?”
“Voice?” Enosh took my face between his hands, thumb stroking over trembling lips. “What does it say, little one?”
“Terrible things…”
With one quick move, Enosh slung his arms around me as though to shield me. “Get out of her head.”
“But it is… so…”The whisper turned into moist breath, breaking against my cheek. “Fun in there.”
A man took form beside us, his face inches from mine until he shifted back. He perfumed the air with sandalwood, staring at me with grass-green eyes. He straightened to an impressive height and skipped down the dais; long, auburn hair shifting on a brown felt jacket elaborately embroidered with golden leaves.
“Did John escape his grave? Who will take care of Pa?” Voice mockingly high-pitched, the man fanned himself as though he was close to a fainting spell, feeding my veins with liquid anger even as my mind struggled to understand what was happening. “Had I done my duty as a wife, my poor John wouldn’t have a—”
“Enough!” Enosh barked.
“—hole in his skull. His death is on my conscience. I am worthless. An unwoman.” The man clapped his hands. “Oh, what delicious agony houses behind those blue eyes of hers, matching your misery, Enosh, so per—”
The man choked on his words before a swell of blood pushed from his mouth. Thick and dark, it ran down his chin, dripping onto a spike of bone now protruding from his neck. The air turned heavy with the taint of metal. Glancing down at it, he wrapped both hands around the spike and dragged it out under gargling wheezes.
My stomach convulsed at the sight, my mind spinning so wildly that I hugged myself, unconsciously shifting closer to Enosh. “You killed him.”
“I wish.” With a sigh, Enosh wiped a palm down his face, which he then dismissively waved at the man who fell to his knees, chin sinking to his chest. “Ada, meet my brother, Yarin.”
Brother.
The word stabbed my temple.
