Fifty-Nine Dianna

Samkiel turned on me the moment we stepped into the makeshift study, and the door slammed shut behind us.

“You’ve been lying to me. For months.”

“Yes.”

“Months, Dianna.”

“I know.” My voice cracked, the lie finally out.

He turned away from me, pacing feverishly, his boots thumping heavily against the carpet. His armor still hugged his form, gray ash dulling the brilliant shine. He’d discarded his helmet to rake his fingers through his hair, toweling the sweat-damp strands.

“Did you know? In the tunnels, when you asked? Did you know the cost then?” His gaze flicked to mine.

I lifted one shoulder, unable to bear his stare for too long. I twisted my fingers in front of me. “I didn’t ask.”

“You didn’t ask?” he damn near yelled. “Dianna, do you have any idea what you could have done? To yourself and the realms? There is a reason resurrection is forbidden, a reason it has not been done or attempted. You put yourself at enormous risk! You—”

“I don’t care,” I cut him off this time, meeting his gaze.

He stopped and raised a single brow before scoffing at me. “You don’t care? You lied to me, have been lying to me for months, and you don’t care?”

“No,” I stumbled. “Well, yes, I care about that, just not the other part. The cost part.”

“Dianna.” His face held nothing but pain and anger. “Your soul, Dianna. You gave up your soul for me. I would never ask such a thing. You have given up so much for others. I would never ask you to shred yet another part of yourself. Never. I want you alive and well and happy, even if I am not.”

“I am,” I said. “I am all of those as long as you are with me.”

No matter how true they were, my words did not quell his rage. They only seemed to twist the dagger I had placed in his heart further.

“You gave up your soul, Dianna. We have no idea what that even means. Logically. You don’t think! You just act and damn the consequences when it comes to your own safety.”

“So I did something irrational.” I tossed my hands in the air. “When have I not?”

“This isn’t funny,” he snapped. “You cannot make a cute joke or quip to get out of this.”

“I know, I know. Listen, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, okay? I just needed time to figure it out, honestly. Roccurem said—”

Samkiel stared at me, his eyes blazing now. It felt as if his building rage was sucking all the air from the room. “That’s right,” a harsh, bitter laugh left his lips, “Roccurem knows. Why would he not?”

“It’s not like that,” I corrected.

“It is exactly like that, Dianna! Because you confide in another instead of me. What other secrets do you two have that I know nothing about?”

I knew what he was thinking and how he was feeling. I had hurt him so badly before by giving myself to others, but it was the furthest thing from the truth.

I hurried to his side, placing my hand on his arm. I shook my head. “It’s not like that. He was there and—”

He pulled away from me, and I felt that yawning crack form between us all over again. Panic, quick and frightening, had me reaching for him again. “There’s no excuse. You have had months to tell me. I laid every piece of me at your feet, and you cannot even give me a fraction of you.”

“I do,” I said, hearing the plea in my voice. “I have. Look, I’m sorry, okay? I am.”

He shook his head. “You keep saying that word, but I don’t think you know what it means. You cannot say you’re sorry and keep hurting someone, Dianna. It means nothing after that.”

“I don’t know what else to say.” I shifted closer, but he avoided my gaze. “This. Us. A relationship is all new to me. Everything is new to me.”

He finally met my gaze, and the pain darkening his eyes made my breath catch. “It’s new to me, too, but I know for a fact that keeping secrets, big or small, is no way to start. Especially about resurrection. How can we have an ounce of anything without trust?”

My head reared back, agony piercing my heart, and I wasn’t sure if it was my emotions or his that were affecting me so strongly. “You don’t trust me?”

His face twisted with pain, and I hated myself.

“How can I when you kept this from me? When you don’t trust me enough to tell me about something like this? Something that affects me just as much, if not more, than you. When you trust others above me? When you don’t trust in my commitment to us enough even to tell me about our mark!”

It was true. From his perspective, it was the truth. I confided in others over him. Everyone knew but him. In my head, I was protecting him, but in reality, I was protecting myself.

“You’re right. I did confide in others. Roccurem knows. Orym found out when we were in that tunnel with the oracle. Gods, even Miska knows. Do you know why it was easy to tell them? Why it means nothing with them but everything with you?” I waved a hand toward him. “Because of this. Because I don’t care how they look at me or how they judge me, I could live a hundred more years and never care. I was scared, okay? Afraid of what it meant and of what you’d say.”

Samkiel ran his hand over his head in agitation, pacing back and forth in long strides. “Of what I’d say?”

“That this isn’t real. That maybe by bringing you back, it changed you. I am afraid that you won’t want me anymore. Losing our bond terrifies me because what if that means I’ve lost you? I am selfish and cruel, and gods above, I am evil if I need to be for you. I would do anything for what you gave me, for what you showed me, and even the thought of losing it, losing you, makes me sick with terror. So yeah, I’m sorry I kept it from you, but I couldn’t lose you again!”

The way he looked at me scared me more than anything I’d faced before. I wondered if I had finally found his line. Was this the thing he couldn’t get past?

“I’m sorry that I hurt you, but I am not, nor will I ever be, sorry for what I did, for what I will do for you. I never claimed to be good or decent. You knew what I was, who I was, and you decided to be with me all the same.”

“Dianna—”

“No!” I felt tears prickle my eyes, the darkness swallowing me whole. “Do you know what it feels like to have your soul cleaved in two? To have it ripped from you? That’s what it felt like when you died in my arms. Pure, blinding pain that I don’t think this world or the next has a word for. So don’t stand there scolding me like a fucking child. You are not my father. I killed him to get to you, and I still wasn’t in time. I would burn the world for you, Samkiel, and I would happily hand over my soul so that you may live. I would do it all again if it meant you existed.”

He wiped his hand across his face. My words setting in and growing roots.

“How would I know what you go through?” he asked. “You lock yourself away behind walls I cannot breach. I’ve tried, Dianna. I’ve really tried, but you keep me at arm’s length.”

I said nothing but crossed my arms over my torso, trying to keep myself from falling into pieces.

“Admit it,” he begged. “No matter how close I am to you or how I touch you, there is still a part of you that you will always keep from me.”

I felt my chest crack and split wide open. This was what I was afraid of. He saw too much, and he wanted it all. I didn’t know if I could give it to him.

“I’m trying,” I said, no longer able to keep my voice steady.

“Try harder because I will not have half of you. I will not love only half of you. Sharing your body with me is not enough,” he said, and I swore my heart broke. “It may have been to others in your past, but it’s not enough for me.”

I had never seen him so utterly broken. This was it for him. I had tried for months after Gabby died to find his limit to push him away, and it wasn’t until now, when the thought of losing him threatened to rip me in half, that I found it. I’d rather be stabbed, burned, and beaten than experience the pain of seeing that look in his eyes.

I closed the distance between us, unable to tolerate it any longer. My hands went to his face. “Sami.”

He gripped my wrists, not painfully, but with enough force to keep me from touching him. “Your lies and secrets will tear us apart far quicker than any force in this world or the next, Dianna.”

Samkiel released me, and I let my hands drop to my side, and I prayed to the old gods and the new to have the floor open and swallow me whole. His eyes blazed into mine, and I shivered from the power in them, but I couldn’t ignore the pain that darkened the silver. It was as sharp as any blade, and I was the one who had thrust it through his chest.

He lifted his hand, and I thought it was to stroke my face as he had done so many times before. Instead, he held it out over my head, and a rush of air whipped my hair forward as a swirling portal opened behind me. I turned and saw Reggie’s all too familiar study back on Youl.

“I need you to go,” he said.

I turned back to him, my eyes burning before the tears fell, staining my cheeks. “Is this . . . Are you . . . Do you not want to be with me?”

His eyes held mine, and I realized the only thing I feared in this world or the next was happening. I had my heart ripped out of my body on Onuna, and this pain was worse.

“I need to rebuild the city,” he said. “And I need . . . time.”

Time. He didn’t say the other part, but I knew he meant time away from me. Samkiel never wanted to be away from me. The last time . . . my throat tightened, my vision blurring.

“For how long?” My voice was a trembling mess.

My question was met with silence. My heart broke, fractured, cracked into a thousand tiny pieces. They felt raw and bloody, and I never wanted to touch them again.

“I love you.” It was a whisper, a plea, and the gods’ honest truth.

His face crumpled, and he took a step back from me. It was just a step, but it felt like a gap so fucking wide I wished it was real so I could throw myself into it. Samkiel never pushed away from me, no matter what I did or said, but this? This was it. This was his final straw.

“Go.”

My shoulders slumped, and I turned and walked through the portal. It closed behind me, and Miska, Orym, and Reggie all looked at me with pity. They had heard that last bit.

“Dianna?” Reggie said my name as a question.

I shut my eyes, and I think I felt my hand lift to ward Reggie off. The tears finally slid down my face, but at that point, I only felt the ache in my chest. I may not have had a soul any longer, but Samkiel had just ripped my heart out. That was okay. It was his anyway. I wiped my face and stormed from the room that was suddenly too small, too cold, and too empty.