Chapter 25

25

" Y es. Eat it all. Just like that, Ander."

Nykander's voice filters through the veil of confusion covering my mind. I slowly open my eyes, and there he is.

He's lying in the grass with Ander in his lap. He's feeding the little pup and praising him every time he eats.

My smile widens.

Nykander whips his head around, his lips curving up. He puts the pup down, urging him to go play with his parents, and he rushes toward me.

"You are awake," he notes, a smile creeping on his face.

I get up. For the first few seconds, I am disoriented as I recall what happened at the Sanctuary.

"Where are we?" I frown as I look around. We are in a forest, but the scenery isn't familiar.

"We are in P'laisa. It is an intermediary realm close to Tartareia. It isn't populated, so I thought we might not stand out too much here."

I nod.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, brushing one hand over my forehead.

My cheeks heat up.

"All things considered, good." I strain a smile.

I don't mention that I still feel the residuals of that putrid essence inside of me. It's almost as if I've been coated in a layer of dirt I cannot shed.

"I am happy to hear that. Here," he says as he gets up and removes a dress from his bag. "There is a river behind those trees. You can wash up and change."

Looking down at myself, I note that I am still covered in blood. My dress is torn, my naked chest on display.

My eyes flare in concern, but as I whip my eyes to his, I note the curve of a smile on his lips.

"I will prepare some food while you wash."

"Thank you," I murmur.

Grabbing the dress, I head in the direction he pointed out. The river is easy to find, the water clean and not too cold. I remove my dirty clothes and step inside.

How I wish I had some soap because no matter how much I scrub, I am unable to erase the taint of evil. It's on my skin, under my skin.

It's everywhere.

I take a deep breath and submerge myself under the water.

The seconds trickle by, and I don't resurface.

Eyes closed, I focus on the flowing water that glides over my body in its descent down the stream. I will it to carry with it all the bad experiences and the pure evil that still taints my flesh.

Unable to withstand it much longer, I jump out, taking a deep, big breath.

My limbs are shaking, and a shiver goes down my spine.

As I open my eyes, the water is no longer a crystalline blue. Instead, it's a deep blood red. And as it courses past me, the color sticks to my skin, coating me in blood from head to toe.

Terror rises in my chest and I stumble back, falling once more in the river and swallowing a mouthful of water.

I sputter and flail my hands to reach the surface again.

"Barbs!" His voice is in my ear. His strong arms grip me up, but in my panic, I'm too slow to recognize that he is not my foe—that he is trying to save me not hurt me further.

A loud scream echoes through the forest— my scream. And with it, a wave of pure energy is unleashed, blasting everything in its path. Water splashes all around, and the trees in the immediate vicinity are razed to the ground.

I crash down on the shore, barely able to find my breath.

Nykander is a distance away, bloodied and groaning in pain. His limbs are broken and mangled as a result of his proximity to me during the blast.

His bones crack as he aligns them back into place, wincing as he pulls his neck into its proper position.

My eyes are wide with shock, and despite wanting to rush to his side, I find that I am frozen on the spot.

He rises to his feet and comes toward me.

His clothes are a tattered mess, the material clinging to his body.

His features are taut as he rips the dangling strands and throws them to the ground. He strides toward me with precision, his eyes pinning me to the spot.

But his tight expression belies his actions. He drops to his knees in front of me, his fingers on my jaw as he tips my face up so I can look him in the eye.

"Are you all right?" he inquires in a gentle tone. "What happened, Barbs?"

There is no accusation in his gaze. There is no anger.

There is only worry and a desire to understand what prompted my outburst.

Before I can help it, I throw myself into his arms, my tears flowing down my cheeks uncontrollably.

"I can't control it, Nykander," I murmur. "I don't know what I'm doing. I'm so sorry I hurt you…"

"Don't," he grits out. "We will solve this together. What I want to know is why you were so afraid."

I shake my head.

"I'm fine now," I answer weakly.

"You're trembling, Barbs. You are not fine."

"Yes, I am. It's all so overwhelming…"

He leans back, his eyes narrowed as he stares at me.

"Are you sure you are telling me the whole truth?"

"W-what do you mean? I'm fine." I force a smile.

He nods slowly, but he doesn't seem convinced.

Helping me to my feet, he turns with his back to me to allow me to dress in peace. Somehow, that small gesture warms my heart.

"We should check on the dogs," I tell him.

As we leave, I glance back at the river.

The water is blue, not red.

You need to get a grip, Barbi!

We make it back to our camping spot, and I immediately rush to the dogs. They are all huddled together in the dog house. Ander is squished between PomPom and BonBon.

"They were trying to defend him." I sigh.

"They are good parents." Nykander chuckles. "Come. I found some meat for us to eat. We will sleep here tonight and search for the portal tomorrow."

I follow him, watching as he builds a fire and roasts the meat he'd hunted.

"I have a question," I say after a moment's thought.

Nykander raises his brow at me.

"Why did you not take us straight to Tartareia? You could have teleported there. Why do we need a portal?"

He takes a deep breath.

"I tried. It did not work. I assume it is because you must personally lift the seal."

"And how will I do that?" I frown.

"You will need to channel. Your spiritual signature should open the gate to Tartareia."

"I see."

"Do not worry, Barbs. I will be there to guide you."

My lips tip up.

As he tends to the meat, I take a seat next to him.

"What happened at the Sanctuary after I passed out? Did the High Priestess make it?"

He shakes his head.

"There were a few villagers who made it, but the High Priestess died while fighting the two mages. I suppose she expected that to happen," he muses.

"I wish I had more time with her. There are so many questions running through my mind. She just dropped a bomb on me and…left."

"I am sorry," he murmurs, placing his hand atop mine. "After I kill Baine, we will go to Aperion to find out more about your mother."

"Do you think they will allow us in?"

"Oh, they will. For the mere fact that they will be curious about you. Even now, the Supremes must have found out about the barrage of souls coming into P'asala, and that an unknown Aperite divinity set them free. There are very few with the power to defeat a demon of Damien's level. That alone will make you intriguing to them."

I digest his words. I don't know how I feel about Aperion and being seen as a deity. Me, a goddess? I almost scoff aloud at the thought.

Yet I can't deny there is one part of me that is curious about it—about my elusive birth parents.

"What else do you know about Lispera?"

He thinks about it for a second.

"Not too much. She was a revered Supreme since my time in the army. She was considered a prodigy and she was both feared and respected, even among my kind's ranks. But she never left Aperion, so no one had ever seen her in the flesh. When she sealed off Tartareia, it came as a surprise to everyone since she had never involved herself in the war between the two realms—at least not directly."

"I wonder why the High Priestess told me I would see her again. Do you think she did not die back then?"

He shakes his head.

"With the amount of energy required to seal off Tartareia, it is very unlikely she survived, even for someone as strong as her. Perhaps she meant you might see her in your dreams? Like it happened last time?"

"That's a good point." I nod. "She seemed to see me, too, in the dream. Maybe that's the key to communicating with her."

He smiles at me.

"Once you get better at controlling your powers, you will be able to control what you dream."

The meat is soon ready and I prepare some for the dogs before I resume my seat next to him and we eat in silence.

Tomorrow at this time we might already be in Tartareia, and the concept frightens me. Not because it is considered the literal hell of the universe, but because it holds all of Nykander's memories of his precious Mo.

I wrinkle my nose as I glance at him from the corner of my eye.

He might have told me Mo is in the past, but I can't help but be worried.

He hasn't been there in seven thousand years. I fear that as soon as we get there, he's going to be reminded of his time with her . It's already enough that his revenge is foremost in his mind, and that is inherently linked to her.

Stop it, Barbi!

I shake myself. I promised him to help, and I will. But despite his assurances, I find myself growing more jealous by the day.

I'm jealous he loved before.

I'm jealous he was with someone before.

I'm jealous of all the time he spent with her.

But most of all, I'm jealous of the way he clung to her memory for seven thousand years—the way he still clings to it now, despite not wanting to admit it.

How hypocritical of me. I promised him I was fine with his past, yet all I can think of is him with her. When he touches me, I can't help but wonder if he touched her like that too. If he…

Good Lord! I'm only going to drive myself mad if I continue on like this.

I am his mate, not her. In time, he will love me even more. I'm sure of it.

But are you?

Shut up, inner voice!

"What is the matter?" Nykander suddenly asks.

"W-what?"

"You were frowning just now, and your aura turned a bright pink."

"Oh. I was just thinking about killing Baine for all he's done to you," I lie.

He cracks a smile.

"You are cute." He chuckles, patting my head and ruffling my hair.

Like a child. Like a goddamn child.

And the sad truth is that I am a child next to him.

"We should go to sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us," I say as I put away the leftover bones for the dogs.

His brows rise in question, but he doesn't inquire about my sudden shift in disposition. He slowly nods, getting up to put out the fire and arrange our bed for the night. He fills one of the sheets we brought with us with our clothes and places the other on top to cover ourselves with it.

I blink in surprise.

"Only one bed?" I ask slowly.

"I recall you inviting me into your bed," he drawls.

"Ehm. Yes, sure. Why not." I laugh awkwardly.

The dogs are already sleeping in the comfort of their little house.

I pull on my dress nervously and lie down on the makeshift mattress. He slides next to me, the length of his body glued to mine. He covers me with the sheet and leans in to lay a kiss on my forehead.

"Relax, Barbs. I will not do anything to you," he whispers.

"I'm relaxed. I'm very relaxed," I mutter anxiously.

"You are anything but relaxed." He chuckles.

"You're mistaken," I stammer. "I am not worried about what you will do to me. In fact, I can't wait for it—to do it, I mean."

"To do what?" He raises a brow.

He's resting on his elbow and staring down at me with an amused expression.

"You know what!" I burst out, squeezing my eyes shut.

"I really do not know. I am a little rusty with my old age and all that. You should remind me what it is."

"You're making fun of me," I accuse, narrowing my eyes at him.

"You are too cute." He shakes his head.

"I don't want to be cute," I mutter under my breath in annoyance.

"What? Why?"

"Cute is what you'd say to a dog, or a shirt, or I don't know…a child? You don't say that to your mate," I grumble, looking away.

His lips tremble with mirth.

"And what would you prefer then?"

"You know… Beautiful, sexy, seductive…that sort of stuff."

He doesn't reply.

I chance a glance at him, and I note he's staring at me with a gentle smile on his face.

"You have it all wrong, Barbs. Sure, you are beautiful, sexy, alluring, and every synonym in the dictionary. But cute encompasses so much more."

I blink in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"It is a visceral feeling that arises in your chest when you see something that tugs at your heartstrings. It is an itch that cannot be scratched, for if I tried to, I fear I would smother you to death in my embrace."

I stare at him, speechless.

Slowly, I move closer to him, angling my body to better fit his. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I lay my head on his chest.

He appears surprised by my gesture as he remains still.

"That is the sweetest thing you have ever said to me," I whisper. "I think I like cute now."

The tension in his body recedes, and he tentatively places his arms around me.

"Tighter." I chuckle. "You promised to smother me to death. Now you won't deliver, oh, you villainous Dark One?"

His chest rumbles with laughter, but he pulls me tighter against him.

And when he sees I don't object, he holds me even tighter.

"I think I like being smothered to death," I speak softly against his chest.

"But only by me," he adds with a wicked grin.

"Only by you," I agree. "As long as I'm the only one you smother too."

"How did we get to this morbid talk?" He chuckles. "I thought we were talking about it ."

"Ugh, stop it!" I burrow deeper in his chest to hide my blush.

"You, sweetheart, are far too easy to rile up." He laughs.

"And you love riling me up far too much," I mumble grumpily.

"Why do you think? Because you are so damn cute."

I take his compliment in stride this time, snuggling by his side.

He's warm and comfortable, and despite the fact that my heart races at our proximity, I also feel at peace.

He kisses the top of my head, letting his lips linger there. I wiggle up his body, tipping my head back.

Our eyes meet.

He cups the side of my face with his big hand, and I sigh deeply at the contact.

Leaning in, he kisses my forehead before moving to my nose. Finally, his lips meet mine. The kiss starts slow. Just a languid slide of lips against lips. When he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, I meet him there, touching my tongue against his.

I whimper softly as I hold on to him, letting him possess my mouth the same way I want him to possess my body.

But he never tries to push for more.

We kiss and kiss until kissing becomes second nature. Until my lips are so inherently connected to his that to keep them apart would mean a death sentence.

We kiss until the entire world fades away. Until there's just his body, my body, and the heat that keeps building between us.

We kiss as if kissing was breathing. Because each touch of his lips breathes life into me.

"You are the sweetest thing I have ever tasted," he murmurs against my mouth. He tugs my lower lip between his teeth, nibbling at it before he peppers light kisses all over my face. "The sweetest and most poisonous."

My eyes widen as I regard him with confusion.

"What do you mean?" I whisper.

"You have the power to end me, Barbs." He gives me a sad smile. "Here." He brings his hand lower, placing it over my chest where the mark we share resides. "One stab here, against your heart, is one stab here, against my heart," he says as he takes my hand and presses it against his mark. "This…us." He takes a deep breath. "I am entrusting you with my heart."

My face lights up at his words. Knowing I can't possibly give him a proper reply, I simply lower myself down his body and press my lips against his chest.

"Your heart is safe with me, Nykander. I will cherish it and take care of it as my most prized possession."

"Nyk," he suddenly says. "Call me Nyk from now on."

I bite my lower lip so I don't dissolve into a crying mess.

"Nyk," I repeat, the word filling me with inexplicable warmth. It feels foreign yet familiar on my tongue. "I will treasure this gift, Nyk."

He smiles at me.

"Sleep, sweetheart. I have you."

Somehow, those words are enough.

In the warmth of his embrace, I let myself succumb to sleep.

He's mine.

I must stop obsessing over Mo. She is gone and I am not.

I am here, with him, and I will be with him for the rest of eternity.

He might have been hers at some point in time, but from now on, he will only ever be mine.

Only ever mine…