Fifty-Four Dianna

I scrubbed at the dark blood staining my cuticles until the water in the sink turned from brown to clear. My mind flashed back to Onuna and how many times I had to shower the blood from my hands and mouth.

“If you breathe a word of this, I’ll make sure her headless boy comment comes true.”

Orym strode in, his hands in his pockets. Neither of us had changed. He still wore his dirty suit, and my blue dress was covered in debris.

“Samkiel will be up soon. He did a last sweep of the area for any missing murderous creatures or mysterious women with magical swords.”

I nodded. I was so glad Samkiel showed up right after I killed the oracle. Orym said nothing, claiming she threatened him, and that was that. Samkiel was mostly concerned about me and whether I was hurt.

Orym leaned against the counter as I scrubbed and scrubbed.

“Did he find anything?”

“No.” Orym sighed. “We assume most creatures are fleeing back to the Otherworld, and there was no sign of the mystery woman.”

The stupid spot in that damn cuticle wouldn’t leave.

“You didn’t tell him. I guess you can live another day.”

“You’re going to have to eventually,” Orym said.

“I know. I just . . .” I scrubbed my nails a fraction harder.

Calloused hands took mine, his mauve skin dotted with small bloody splotches. I knew when the chaos had erupted, he and Samkiel had helped as many as they could. Both were far nicer than me. He grabbed a dry cloth off the counter and gently patted my raw hands dry. “I think you got all the oracle off.”

“Maybe.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

My eyes burned. “The oracle wasn’t wrong about anything. I do feel hollow. Since it happened, I’ve felt different . . . wrong. It’s like something is missing, and I can’t find it. The only time I feel like myself is when he is near me.”

Orym didn’t say anything, just held my hands as I found the words.

“I had a sister.” My voice was barely a whisper. “Who I loved very much. She is the reason I am what I am. I gave up my life to keep her heart beating, and then she was taken from me. I couldn’t save her. Then Samkiel . . . I couldn’t lose him, too. I refused to, so I threatened to burn all the realms in those tunnels, and I meant it. I would destroy everything, and I was prepared to do just that. Then . . .”

Orym squeezed my hands, grounding me. “And then?”

I nodded toward my finger. “It went away. Our mark had formed. It burned and sealed and went away. I lost us our mark. That was my price. He’s not mine anymore.”

Orym’s eyes softened with pain as he looked at me. “That’s not your price, Dianna, trust me. I’ve lived with you both and heard the way he speaks about you when you aren’t even around. Gods, the way he looks at you. It’s as if you have hung the stars themselves. He’s tied to you now, Dianna. Trust me when I say that you don’t need the mark.”

The crack in my heart I’d refused to acknowledge seemed to heal at his words. I had been so scared that losing our mark meant we would lose us, and he’d leave me. That I had ruined us like I had ruined so much in my life. I glanced up at Orym, who was still gently patting my hands. “You think so?”

“There’s no way you could have brought your amata back from the dead without being tethered in some deeper way.” He smiled at me, attempting to cheer me up. “It would have been utterly impossible.”

“Maybe.”

“But the universe does not give you anything without paying for it. There always has to be balance.” Orym’s eyes burned into mine. “Dianna, I’m sorry you had to watch him die. I’ve been there, and I wish I were as strong as you. I would have paid the same price to keep her.”

“You lost your amata.” Everything made sense now. “That’s what you lost.”

I heard a throat clear from the doorway a moment before I felt his power encompass me.

“Am I interrupting something?” Samkiel asked.

I pulled my hands back, brushing a strand of hair from my face. The moment we were no longer touching, Orym stumbled back, pushed by Samkiel’s power.

“No, I was just checking on Dianna.”

“After I punched a hole in an oracle’s face,” I added.

Samkiel kept his gaze pinned on Orym, and I swore I saw sweat forming on Orym’s brow.

“I believe I am pretty capable of taking care of her,” Samkiel said, folding his arms across his chest.

I guessed from an outside perspective it had looked intimate and secretive. It was made worse because Orym couldn’t tell him what we were talking about. So, instead, Orym cleared his throat and made his way out of the bathroom in a hurry.

I smirked, leaning on the sink. “I thought gods don’t get jealous?”

Samkiel kept his eyes on the door until we heard Orym head downstairs, his arms folded so tightly that his shirt was straining over his biceps, shoulders, and chest. Then he dropped his arms and strode toward me, his lips pressed into a hard line, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. Watching him walk toward me seemed to ease my soul.

“You know I was joking, right? If I thought he was even slightly interested, I’d boil him from the inside out.” He raised his hand and tugged at the strap of my dress. “Besides, you were gone all night in a lovely dress, spending time with another who all but tossed herself at you, and then you came back smelling of her. Now, I find you holding hands and whispering with Orym in our bathroom. I am feeling . . . territorial.”

I studied his face, every line and beloved feature transcribed in my brain. Samkiel truly had no idea the lengths I would go for him and only him. I understood his jealousy. I had left him before at my lowest and had been with others to push him away. Even with all his power and self-confidence, a part of him would always worry. I regretted putting that doubt in his eyes. I cupped his face and forced a smile. “There is nothing more important to me than you.”

His eyes softened, and that haunted look disappeared. He dipped his head and kissed my palm, his storm-colored eyes holding my gaze. “I know the feeling.”

I smiled, this time not having to force it, and leaned forward to kiss his lips before stepping out of his embrace. He felt the hesitation there, the lack of me, I suppose. But I was still shaken by the oracle and all she’d said. I turned my back to him.

“Can you help me?”

He slid his fingers across the exposed skin of my back, undoing one small button at a time.

“I want a bath,” I said softly. “And I want to go to bed.”

“Anything you wish, akrai.”

I looked at him over my shoulder. “Can you just hold me tonight?”

Worry creased his brow, not because he minded but because I never asked for that. My need for affection usually resulted in us both screaming with pleasure, never the soft, delicate moments he loved so much. Those moments scared me more than I wished to admit. I didn’t know how to deal with the emotions those tiny moments gave me. I could fuck him until his legs refused to work, but I’d never truly had that level of intimacy.

Samkiel finished the last button, and I held the dress against my breasts to keep it from falling. He sat on the edge of the tub and twisted the chain-style knobs, running his hand under the water to check the temperature.

“Do you wish to tell me why you were crying, or shall I ask Orym?”

I knew when he said ask, he meant in a non-friendly way. Samkiel seemed to be more erratic than ever when it came to me.

“It was nothing,” I whispered, and his brows rose in question. “The oracle said some things that upset me, that is all.”

“Said what?”

He moved his hand to his lap, satisfied with the temperature as the tub filled.

“Said things that made me think of Gabby.”

His brows pinched together in empathy. “Oh, akrai. Do you wish for me to go kill her twice?”

A snort left my lips even as my eyes filled with unshed tears. “You’re cute when you’re homicidal.”

He smiled at me and stood up, pulling his shirt off.

“We will not both fit in this bathtub,” I said, knowing that was exactly what he wanted, and he wasn’t expecting sex. The one thing I’d learned from Samkiel was that he craved to touch me. Every chance he got, he held my hand, pressed a knee to mine, or even a foot. He especially loved bathing or showering with me. Samkiel wanted to do everything with me, and the knowledge healed a fraction of my cold, bruised, damaged heart.

“You know me,” he tapped my nose, “I’ll make it fit.”

I couldn’t help the small laugh that burst from me, even though I knew he hadn’t said it on purpose.

“There she is. There’s my Dianna.” A soft smile graced his lips, proud that he could chase some of the darkness away from me. He held out his hand once more, waiting.

I dropped my dress, and he led me to the tub. It was not a good fit despite his confidence, but we made it work. Samkiel wrapped his big body around mine and held me close. He whispered to me, doing everything he could to make me laugh. The harrowing tension that had gripped me melted away.

After our bath, Samkiel headed across the hall to brief Orym on his plan. They talked for a while as I lay on the small bed, gazing out the window. A caw sounded on the wind, a dark bird with wings the color of midnight coasting by, its medium-sized body darting past the window. I moved my hands under my head, watching the silver of Samkiel’s power burn in the night sky, and I made up my mind to tell him. I couldn’t hide it anymore, and I had to tell him what the oracle had said. It wasn’t fair to him, even if he would be mad at me.

The door creaked open, and Samkiel padded in. “Sorry, that took a little while. I also filled Roccurem in on what happened.”

I nodded and rested my head on my hands. “What’s the plan?”

Samkiel grabbed a throw off the chair and moved around to the other side of the bed. It dipped and creaked beneath his weight as he settled and spread the blanket over us. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. Fitting my body to his, he rested his face in the crook of my neck.

“We need to wait until I find the murrak. That’s my main goal.”

“Not the girl with the sword?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “The murrak is not to be trifled with, and I need to make sure it is no longer in the city.”

I turned in his embrace. “What is it?”

His eyes held mine. “There are princes in the Otherworld, seven to be exact. Each carries a totem from their mother, Icnima. She birthed monsters as the fables go. The murrak is one of seven ancient creatures still in existence, a gift to her son, Umemri.”

I recalled its massive form, the legs, and how it moved. Even its skin seemed Otherworldly. “It looks gross. You know I hate bugs. Why couldn’t she get them something nicer?”

His smile made my heart do that stupid flip. “Yes, I suppose she could have, and it does resemble the insects from your world, but I am afraid it is far worse than anything Onuna has to offer.”

“So, is your goal to capture it? Since it belongs to one of them.”

Samkiel sighed deeply. “That’s my goal. I would like not to elicit the wrath of the Otherworld. I am already fighting one war.”

“It’s tough being the hero?” I teased.

“Tremendously.”

I nodded, another question waiting on the tip of my tongue. “Do you think I’m evil?” I blurted, not sure why I asked or why it slipped out. It was something the oracle said, and it had stuck in my brain. I was too afraid to look at him. Instead, I studied my hands, where they rested against his chest. I didn’t know what I would do if I were to see a flicker or change in his eyes that told me even some part of him believed I was. Even if he didn’t think I was evil, I was not good. Not like him.

“Is that what she said?”

“More or less.” I shrugged. “I just want to be what you and Gabby see in me. Not what he made me.”

A gentle, calloused finger touched my chin, lifting my gaze to his. No secret emotion hung in his eyes, no lingering doubt or question, just pure, raw . . . love.

“Dianna, you are perfect the way you are. There is nothing I would ever change about you. Fangs and all.”

“I guess she just got under my skin.” I leaned forward, brushing a quick kiss against his lips.

“You know what I think?” he asked. “I think there are a lot of people, beings, who see you, see your power, and fear it. They are used to being abused by such power, and meeting or even hearing of you frightens them. But that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them. You are not evil and never have been. There is no question in my mind, body, or soul.”

I felt my eyes burn. “I mean, not even a little bit of a question?”

“I have seen evil. I have fought evil gods, monsters, and beings for longer than I care to admit, but when I look at you, I see . . . hope.”

My head jerked back. “Hope?”

He nodded, wrapping his arm around me a fraction tighter. “Hope. Because I know you have the power to change worlds, and you’d do that for the people you love. Love, Dianna. It doesn’t make you weak. It offers strength to anyone who experiences it, but with how intensely and completely you love, it makes you nearly invincible. I saw it in how ferociously you protected your sister and me. I have seen your heart, physically held it, and I have never met an evil being who loves as you do. So no, you’re not evil.”

I didn’t even know I had started to cry until his thumb brushed away a stray tear. “That’s sweet.”

“We all have flaws. Such is living, but evil? You? Not even on your worst day.”

I leaned forward, my forehead touching his. Never in my whole life had I felt as whole as I did when I was with him. I had never felt so alive. I never . . . felt. His breath mingled with mine, his scent alone, making my heart race.

He pulled back and glanced at me. His hand ran lazily up and down my back. “I will say it is peculiar, though.”

“What?” I asked.

“Oracles, while boisterous, I suppose, are not usually confrontational.”

“Well, maybe she lost it. No telling what she was subjected to. And let’s not forget she dug her own eyes out. I mean, how many ancient beings are out there that speak in riddles?”

Samkiel chuckled. “Far too many.”

“Sorry, I killed some ancient, powerful thing.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. From what you said, I believe she knew your temper and what buttons to push, so you’d react as you did.”

“Why would she do that?”

His gaze held mine, the light of the moon spilling into our dark room and making the gray a fraction more Otherworldly. “Fear of Nismera. Yours would be a quick death. Nismera has the entire realm terrified because her cruelty knows no bounds. Sometimes death is not the worst option and offers peace in place of suffering.”

My stomach lurched at his words.

Ask her what she ripped from the very heavens.

I wondered if he’d felt the peace of death when he died, even for a second. Had he felt the rupture when I’d begged death to steal that from him? Would he hate me when he knew what I’d done? Would he leave? I knew in my heart that I could have never done that to Gabby, even though her being here would bring me so much happiness and comfort. I could never strip her of the peace she so desperately deserved. Even if I could have her with me, I wouldn’t. But for Samkiel? In a heartbeat. I’d burn worlds, erase empires, and turn stars to ash if I had to.

The oracle was right. I was evil.

I ran my thumb across his cheek, my heart burning with one simple truth. “I am extremely selfish when it comes to you.”

He smiled, placing a kiss on my palm. “I know the feeling.”

I curled up next to him, listening to his heartbeat as sleep eventually took him. His hand stilled on my back, but I didn’t sleep that night. I stared at the sky, watching the silver wave of his power ebb and flow across the night sky, barely noticing the bird made of midnight as it flew by again.