Chapter 43

I lifted my legs, boots landing on the table with a thud. The empty bottles atop clinked and one tipped over, rolling past a nearly burned-out oil lantern, a stack of old tomes, and an ashtray full of cigarette butts, right off the edge.

The crash rang like an explosion, disturbing the quiet blanket of night enveloping the garden.

I lounged in my chair and raised my goblet to the stars. Being Xar'vathi, I already needed far more alcohol to get drunk than Elves or Humans. And combined with the resilience of the demonic taint in my blood, I was just starting to feel a comfortable buzz.

As I knocked back my drink and sweet wine flowed over my tongue, I glanced along the darkened mansion, the windows like black mirrors—except for a shimmer of light on the top floor.

Kerys's study.

When I had our house rebuilt here, I recreated the room as best I could from memory. The royal blue, floral wallpaper and stained wooden floors. The towering bookshelves with a sliding ladder, the massive research desk, and an alchemy station with supplies for enchanting. I even found a mage to secure the chamber with special bell wards, so any intruder—even demons—would be greeted by an alarm.

A smile curled my lips. I'd almost given up hope of ever seeing the dusty sheets lifted from the furniture, to ever see life breathed into the mausoleum of her talents.

The servants had long turned in, but I didn't want to go to bed without Kerys. Actually, I physically couldn't bring myself to try. Upstairs on my own, the sight of the empty bed made my heart glaze with frost.

How had I survived so many decades of loneliness?

Dim light flickered in the foyer, approaching. My pulse hurtled into a ridiculously cheerful rhythm as a slender form appeared in the doorway, and I sat up straight, my feet meeting solid ground.

My wife stepped from the shadows into the moonlight, bare soles soundless on the mosaic tiles. Clutching a candleholder in her left hand, she hid the other behind her back. She smiled as our eyes met, a flush of pink tinting her cheeks.

"I saw your note on the bed," she said, tiptoeing around the shattered bottle to set the candle onto the table. "If I had known you were up waiting for me, I would have quit earlier."

"Would you love me any less if I told you that I just can't stand being without you, not even for a second? When I'm not near you, it feels like my chest is being crushed. Your absence is deadly poison to me, Kerys."

Her giggle filled my gut with warm tingles. So long as I could hear her laugh, I'd give up the sweetest compositions, never listen to another song again.

"No, actually I'd love you more," she said. "And by the way, you could have asked to stay in the study with me."

I shook my head. "You used to hate that, so I didn't want to impose."

Her breath came in a long exhale, her tongue playing along the corner of her mouth. "I fear I might not ever recall all my memories, and a part of me grieves for that life we lived—and lost. For the happy memories, even for the sad ones. And while most of me might be the same, some things are different. I have changed a little, and this new Kerys would love to have you around her, always. Even in her study when she's working."

She paused, jaw clenching, eyes darting.

"Does that make you love me less?" she asked. "That I'm not entirely the same as I was? That maybe, we might find out more things that have changed about me?"

My tail lashed out. It snapped around her wrist like a whip, and with a sharp tug, I pulled her off balance, toward me. She stumbled, a yelp echoing through the garden as she landed on my lap. I slammed my empty goblet onto the table and grabbed her face with both hands. Her gaze widened as I covered her mouth with mine, my tongue sliding between her lips.

Her right hand still clutched into a fist, the other found my horn, tugging, anchoring herself.

She tasted sweet, of the milky tea I brought her before I attempted to go to bed alone. I stifled a snicker. She probably got so immersed in her work, she forgot and drank it cold again, all at once, only a few minutes ago.

"Yes, I know you're different," I whispered. "You're different and you're the same, and with every passing day, I love you more and more."

I swallowed her sigh and kissed her again. When I pulled away, we were both out of breath, her breasts heaving beneath the blue silk of her dress. I didn't let go of her face, forcing her to keep looking at me.

My thumbs caressed along the velvet skin of her cheeks, brushing away a lone tear. "You are my wife , Kerys, and you always will be. You were my wife from the moment I first laid eyes on you, even when you still belonged to another. I love you as you were then, and I love you as you are now. Even if you looked nothing like the woman I knew a century ago, I would love you the same. Come what may, I will love any version of you that will ever be.

"Your past and your future are a part of you, and you are a part of me , as much as the heart pumping my blood or the lungs drawing my breath. Without you, there is no me. If you're not by my side, my existence is empty, hollow nothingness where my soul should be."

Kerys sniffled, lips pinched as her free hand wiped at her eyes. Her brow furrowed, but yet she smiled. "You make the heroes from those romance novels I like to read sound like amateurs." She sobbed a giggle. "Still calling me your wife though it was so long ago, and death tore us apart."

I scoffed, tapping the tip of her nose. " Nobody takes my wife from me. Not death, not a demon, not anyone else. They can try, but I'll always find you again. Our bond can't be broken, my priceless treasure."

"If you still consider me your wife, does that mean I won't get a second wedding?" she asked impishly, pouting.

"Fuck, of course you'll get another wedding!" I threw my arms into the air, smirking. "Another ten if you want! A hundred ! Whatever makes you happy."

Kerys's gaze fell to her fist in her lap, and her expression soured slightly.

"Did you run into trouble?" I asked, tenderly grasping her chin.

"No. Not at all."

Her fingers unfurled, revealing a light purple, walnut-sized gem with cracks running through its translucent center, veins of muddy red marbling the stone.

"I'm a little tired from channeling my magic, but everything went without a hitch." She turned the jewel in her hand. "According to my memory of the instructions, I brewed separate solutions from the tongue and the extracted blood. Then I dropped the crystal inside each pot, letting the liquid stew until it had all been absorbed. I was worried when the cracks appeared, but the gem's structural integrity seems unchanged."

"Well done, Kerys." I kissed her cheek. "But without the last ingredient all your efforts are wasted." My shoulders fell. "There won't be a wedding. There won't be a life together, there won't be—" I stopped myself, snapping my lips shut.

"I take it you had no luck with your research then?" she asked softly, glancing at the messy stack of books on the table.

I expected disappointment in her tone or even frustration, but her voice was filled with understanding and affection, even as she realized my failure.

My tail released her wrist, slashing through the air. "I mean, an innocent man's earnest guilt ? What is that supposed to mean? I've been racking my brain over this ever since you told me, and I still wouldn't know where to start looking. How can an innocent man be genuinely guilty?"

I groaned, angry at myself for being helpless once more.

One hurdle. A single damn hurdle stood between us and our goal. A single piece missing to complete the puzzle, and I couldn't fucking figure it out.

Silence came over us. We sat with each other, our breaths mingling and our pulses beating together. I closed my eyes, focusing on her scent, on her weight on my lap, when Kerys gasped.

"Skrain," she breathed. "Skrain, look."

Adrenaline flooded my blood and my eyes flung open, anticipating a threat, but my wife was smiling, pointing above.

"Look," she repeated.

I raised my gaze to the sky, and joy swelled in my chest.

Like flowing water, a band of light wove between the stars. Its pale silver shimmer turned into spirals of red fire coiling in the heavens, morphing into an ocean of glimmering blue and luminescent emerald. As if the night sky became the Gods' canvas, the colors shifted again and again, painting the darkness, each stroke of their brush a symphony of beauty as fleeting as our mortal fates.

"Lumyn'quab verixas," I whispered.

"True hearts' light," Kerys answered. She blinked as if shocked by her knowledge. "I recall. When lovers meet beneath the lumyn'quab verixas, they must speak their hearts' hidden truth, confess their feelings, or their love will be forever doomed."

My throat thickened as I nodded.

"The last time—" she started again, voice drifting off as she chewed on her cheek. Lost in deep thought, her breath stalled, until her wide eyes fixed on mine. "The last time we watched the lumyn'quab verixas together, you …" Her head tilted. "You proposed?" Her tone rose a few pitches at the end of the sentence, as if she couldn't quite believe what she'd said.

My chin dipped in confirmation. I couldn't speak. My tongue was an immovable stone in my dry mouth, no shallow gulp of air enough to force a sound.

She remembered.

So did I.

I remembered the moment on the way back from a visit to the theater, when I sank to one knee in the middle of a street in Xalax'ar. I felt the phantom touch of velvet against my fingertips as I pulled out that little black box, inside it the ring I had been hiding for months. It was the first purchase I made with our new money, right after we took over the mines.

I had the stones cut into her favorite shapes. A square sapphire in the middle, framed by sparkling, round diamonds.

I remembered the joy in her eyes as I opened the case. How she blurted out yes before I'd even asked the damn question.

My lips parted as I clutched my neck. Sweat beaded on my forehead, trickling down my face.

I was drowning from the inside out.

The smile slipped off her face as she laid a hand on my cheek. "What's wrong?"

"I … can't … breathe …" I choked out.

"Shhh, I'm here. You're fine. We're fine," she whispered. "Breathe with me. Slowly. In … and out."

I had promised myself to put this behind me, this whirlwind of tormenting emotions. Grief. Defeat. Embarrassment. Disgust. But I still hated myself, still couldn't stop thinking how this was all my fault.

My face contorted, containing the sob welling in my throat. "We wouldn't be in this situation if I didn't fucking fail you," I hissed through gritted teeth. "If I hadn't gone away and left you to die!"

Kerys offered a soft, comforting smile. "Please, Skrain, I told you I'm not mad. From the moment I knew my true memories, I never blamed you for my death, not for one second. None of what?—"

"After you died, I tried to be mad at you , just because I couldn't bear being sad anymore," I interrupted. Now that I'd started rambling, I couldn't stop clumsy, desperate words from leaving my lips. "I wished I could've put the blame on you. I screamed into the desert, asking how you'd dare to leave me alone." Blinking back tears, I shook my head. "But I fucking couldn't. No. What happened to you was my fault."

Kerys didn't flinch at my outburst. Her eyes stayed gentle, her caress along my cheek steady.

"What can I do to take this burden from you, my beloved husband?" she whispered. "It's not yours to carry, and I hate to see you suffer so."

"Me? Suffering?" I barked a sarcastic laugh. "What about your suffering, Keryssa? We should have lived and died together. And I would have found you in the next life, just as I promised during our vows!"

She heaved a sigh. "But we get a second chance, Skrain! Let's not waste it. Together, we'll figure out how to finish the stone."

"If I would've done the right damn thing and stayed with you on that cursed night, we wouldn't need this stupid jewel," I growled as I reached for her hand holding the gem, bringing it up between us. It reflected the changing lights above, strewing tiny rainbows across her face.

She was beautiful. So fucking beautiful it hurt, my chest tearing into pieces just from looking at her.

She shook her head. "You did the right thing. No one could have foreseen what would happen. You tried to make some coin for us, provide for us," she responded calmly, but I saw the tremble in her chin, and my heart turned to lead.

"P-please don't cry. I don't deserve your tears. I never … never deserved you , Kerys, I—" My voice faded.

"I'm not crying because I'm angry or because I feel like you hurt me, Skrain. You didn't hurt me," she whispered. "I'm crying because I love you, and I feel your anguish as if it is my own. Above all, I want you to be happy. I want you to forgive yourself."

I couldn't keep it together anymore.

"You're too good for me." I sobbed, pressure burning behind my eyes. My hand found the nape of her neck, tugging her close, leaning my forehead against hers. "You're too gorgeous. Too kind. Too smart. Too funny. Too witty. And I let you die. How could I let you die?"

My tears spilled over. They streamed down my face, a raging, untamable torrent of grief and regret.

All I could gasp was her name, all I could feel was the heat of her body, her breath on my lips.

A soft, lavender glow rose between us, and Kerys stiffened. She pulled away, just an inch. I was about to yank her back, adrift without her touch, but her mouth curved up.

"An innocent man's earnest guilt," she brought out, tone weak with disbelief. "You found it, Skrain."

I blinked, a veil of sadness blurring my vision. Teeth gritted, I took a deep breath, just to have it knocked right out of me again when I followed her gaze downward.

The light. It came from the jewel, shining wet—with my tears.