Chapter 52

He'd left me lying in bed with a choice to make. He hadn't pushed, hadn't forced me to decide, had only gone for a second to bring a package to my room from his and close the door behind him. I stared at the brown paper-covered box for a long time, eyed the letter scripted with elegant writing—his, most likely—and lived in the torment of my heart. Eventually, curiosity won out, and I caved, snatching the letter.

Deyanira Sariah Faber, Death's Maiden, Princess to the fallen kingdom of Perth, the sharpest of blades and greatest of hearts,

The choice is yours. I will wait for you in the garden until midnight. If you don't come, we will not chase you. We will let you live the life you choose in peace.

Orin Faber,

the most sorrowful of husbands

My eyes lingered on my title from Death far longer than it should have. Death's Maiden but also Life's, or the God of Life, whoever that was. The second that thought had come to me, a thrum of peace rippled through my body, as if my soul embraced a foreign power I'd never realized laid nearly dormant within me. I hadn't told him. And I wasn't sure if I should until I had no doubts.

Still, I slid the box across the bed, pulling it onto my lap. Tearing the packaging away, I tossed it and the lid, gasping as my fingers grazed the black silk fabric within, lying beneath Chaos. The writing on the note inside was not from Orin's hand. The letters were smaller, clean, but with a different edge to them.

Deyanira,

As I write this letter behind the stage where you and I will share our final words, I want you to know that I am grateful for this escape. I choose this end. I choose to be with my beloved once more.

I fear for you, my darling. Hidden truths will fester, and while we all played a part in this deception, just know that I've witnessed his hardest days made easier by your simple touch, and I was not strong enough to deny him the escape. I am sorry. There will come a day when truths unfold. I've asked for this letter to be delivered at that time because my final lesson, and possibly the most important I will ever leave you with, is to love your family through the masks they wear and the hardships you will all endure.

When Dahlia smiled, even when the madness had consumed her, I couldn't stop loving her. My sister was part of my first family, but you, my dear girl, are my second. The one I chose.

Do this old man a favor and choose them back, though none of us deserve you.

I will see you in eternity with open arms, no matter your choice.

Hollis

Such heartache should not have been meant for humans. Losing that old man was an agony I wasn't prepared for, but mourning him was so much worse. Fine one moment and all-consuming the next, I couldn't think beyond the sadness and the pain of missing him. I blinked away tears I wished I could have controlled. I forced a breath to fill reluctant lungs. With the heaviest of hearts, I lifted the black silk gown from the box and moved my fingers over the lace edging on the open back and then the threading that was nearly invisible in the flawless masterpiece. He'd touched these pieces, and no doubt, had worried over each stitch, as I'd seen him do a hundred times. Hollis was the only man in my life to ever truly treat me as a princess and a person. Never as Death's Maiden, simply a kindred spirit.

I wasn't sure which way I'd go: if I'd walk out of the front door or the back. But I slipped from that bed and put the dress on all the same, letting the cool fabric hug my skin until I could almost feel those fragile arms around me. I hoped I truly would see him in Death's court when my time came. But I couldn't pretend to know the true workings of eternity. I had no idea what lay beyond the gates of hell. Past the hellhounds, and into a realm likely steeped in fear. Or if I would truly go there. If I was Death and Life's Maiden, who would lay claim over my soul?

With a strong, steady breath, I opened the door and descended the stairs, stepping into the sitting room to take in the moment. A vase of Elowen's flowers sat in the center of the coffee table, dying, drooping, mirroring the deflation of my heart. I reached for the peonies, their once-bulbous shape now limp. Desperately searching for a power that wasn't solely Death's, I burrowed deep, looking beyond the blackness that sat within me, searching for something light. A pinprick of luminescence, nearly drowned in a vat of dark, drew me nearer. I reached for that bit with all my grit, wishing for it to be enough. More than its counterpart. A vibrant wave of color wicked up the peony as I wrapped my whole self around that light. Its gentle petals grew with life in my palm, confirming the power buried within me. Heart pounding, I watched as it bloomed anew, rejuvenated. But only for a second before the opposing power took over like a snarling beast and turned the flower to ash.

For every day, so would be a night. For every life, a death. For every win, a loss. All things came with a balance. I thought of Orin, knowing he stood in the garden as time ticked away. He was my perfect counterpart. And I was his.

The night air was cool and filled with the gentle scent of jasmine as I stood at the edge of the garden, hidden in the embrace of the shadows. The moon hung low in the sky, its cool light casting a soft, ethereal glow over the scene before me. Hollis's fabric cascaded like liquid midnight.

As I took that first step, the grass was cool and slightly damp, with dew that had settled on the garden in the quiet hours of the night. The soft rustling of leaves in the nearby trees whispered secrets of the centuries, as if the very world were holding its breath, awaiting the union that was about to take place.

Orin stood there beneath an intricate golden archway. His eyes widened in surprise, and then a slow, incredulous smile spread across his face. It was a moment of pure understanding, a moment when he saw into my heart and knew that I had chosen him over all else. Each footfall on the cool earth resonated with a reassuring solidity, the sound echoing through the stillness like a heartbeat. The gentle melody of a distant nightingale filled the air, its song a haunting, sweet serenade that seemed to accompany me on my journey toward him.

The rest had come. Had waited for my final decision, just as he had. My heart, once heavy with hurt and darkness, beat in harmony with the rhythm of my steps. I released the pain, the doubts, and the shadows that had clung to me, and I felt as if I were walking on air. The weight of forgiveness and love lifted me higher with each step, propelling me toward the man I had chosen to marry, the man I had chosen to love despite it all.

"You came," he said simply, reaching his hand toward me.

It might have been a simple gesture, had I not known the reality behind it. My touch was life and light. An escape for his darkness. And taking that hand would be accepting that as truth. As my fingers slipped into his, I couldn't help the warm smile.

He pulled me near, smoothing his thumbs over my cheeks as he spoke. "I promise to do whatever it takes to coax this beautiful smile every day for the rest of my hundred years."

"Is that your vow?" I asked, wrapping my arms around him.

Touching his forehead to mine, he whispered, "I didn't think you'd come."

"Me either."

Paesha cleared her throat, reminding us both that we had a full audience and a yawning child doing her best to stay awake, though her eyes had glossed over, and the dog at her feet snored louder than the bird singing in the distance.

Orin gripped my wrist, rubbing a finger over the golden band before placing his own directly on top of it. His eyes, deep and unwavering, met mine with a profound sincerity beyond ordinary boundaries of mortal love. "My promise, Wife, goes far beyond a life of happiness. I offer you a vow that reaches into eternity itself. I will stand by your side through all the storms that may come our way. In a world where uncertainty reigns, I vow to be your anchor, your steadfast companion, and your refuge in times of sorrow. I pledge to honor you not only in the light but also in the darkest of hours. At the end of this mortal life, when Death walks beside us, our love shall defy the limits of eternity. It will be a testament to the enduring power of the human heart. I vow that our love will be our legacy left behind, not our power. With Death's blessing and the gods watching over us, I bind myself to you from this day till death."

Orin's vow ignited the magical bond we shared; the bands at our wrists illuminated the night as our friends gasped. I couldn't pull my eyes from his, though. Couldn't stop repeating his solemn vows in my mind as the words washed over me. When we'd married, he'd laughed when I accidentally bound him to Death's court, and here he'd promised to come with me on his own accord. Forever.

"I don't have any promises to make beyond one. I vow to always be a safe space for you. When the darkness consumes you, I will be your light, your beacon. I will never let you fall. With Death's blessing and the gods watching over us, I bind myself to you from this day till death."

Our soft and gentle kiss was accompanied by the applause of those who loved us most. Before I could take a full breath after such an emotional moment, we were encased in hugs.

"We have a wedding gift for you," Quill said through a yawn. "Oh, and thanks for staying."

"The bathhouse is ready," Thea continued, bouncing on her toes.

Paesha added, "I snuck in earlier. It's divine."

Orin grabbed my hand, leading me away from the others. "Good night," he called over his shoulder.

And in unison, all four of them called in sing-song voices, "Good night."

The building was just as it was last I'd seen it. A long building that was more a work of art than anything else, made from opaque glass and intricate metal designs. The filigree of Thea's handiwork crept up the building in such fine detail, I worried if word got out, our small reprieve from the world would become a beacon to those curious enough to wander through the tree line.

But the outside was nothing compared to what lay within. Orin's hand faltered when we stepped through the doorway, taking in details fit for a king. No. A god. A golden arch, twin to the one we'd just stood under, welcomed us inside. Beyond that, pools of steaming water dipped into the marble floor separated by white pillars, smothered in vines of delicate golden leaves. Had this bathhouse been built in the realm of gods, it still would have been noteworthy. Thea had outdone herself, and there would never be another building in this world to compare.

The air was heavy with the intoxicating scent of fragrant oils and burning wood in the fireplace along the farthest wall, and I could feel the warmth wrap around us nearly as heated as the amber eyes that watched only me. The full baths steamed, sending tendrils of mist curling through the air. It was as if we'd entered a hidden realm, far removed from the wreckage of the world.

Orin's knuckles traced the black silk along my side, his voice low and husky. "Choose your bath, Wife."

I led him towards the largest sunken basin, its water shimmering like liquid gold in the firelight. We stood there for a moment, our eyes locked, the promise of pleasure building between us. After circling, searing me with his gaze, Orin began to untie the ribbon at the back of my neck, the only fabric holding the dress up.

He massaged the tattoo that covered my back, his burning contact causing a wave of desire as each inch of vine held his attention. "So lovely," he whispered into my ear as the silk gown pooled to the floor. Brushing his lips across the base of my neck, it took every ounce of control not to completely come apart for him right there. I'd needed this moment so desperately for so long; had craved his touch. Even in anger, I planned to savor every bit.

Turning so my breasts pressed against him, I tugged on the bottom of his shirt until it was free of his pants. Button by button, as I held his fiery gaze, I undressed him. Each movement elicited a pulse of need until he stood gloriously bare. His body like that of a fallen god.

I rose to the tips of my toes, locking my fingers behind his neck as I dropped his shirt to the floor, joining my gown. Smoothing my hands over his tight, muscled chest, over each black vein creeping from his heart, my knees felt weak when he slid a thumb over his bottom lip and closed his eyes, dragging in a measured breath.

He kissed me once, viciously, with hard determination, every jagged edge of his madness peeking through to form the entirety of the man he was and not the masks he wore. Not all good and not all bad. He lingered somewhere in between, just as I did. But we would always call to the darkness within each other, even unintentionally.

Deep golden eyes stared down into mine as he pulled back, his lips swollen as he stroked his fingers down my arms, dragging a moan from me. Heat pooled between my legs from the way he stared at my bare body, frozen as if he could not trust himself to keep from ruining me.

"Tell me you are mine," he growled, wrapping my hair around his fist, tilting my head back. "Tell me this is forever."

I dug my nails into his arms and dragged them down until he hissed, delight showing on his stunning face. "I am yours and you are mine."

I sauntered away, swishing my hips, until the fiction made my clit throb with need. Moving to the edge of the steaming bath, the fire heated my back as I dipped a toe in. Orin's face lit with menace, cocking an eyebrow as he dared me to continue. Dropping my chin, I stepped in, the hot water lapping over the edge and onto the floor. Still, he stood. Still, he stared, locked in time, as he watched every inch of my body disappear. My breath left me, though I wasn"t sure if it was from the strain on his face or the temperature of the bath.

I dipped below the surface, letting my hair soak completely through. By the time I came up for air, he'd already moved, the spell broken, or perhaps only amplified as he approached the bath. I turned, leaning against the opposite edge to watch him descend the steps, holding my gaze.

"Stand up, Deyanira. Let me look at you."

"You didn't marry a demure, obedient woman, Orin," I reminded him, sinking lower. "If you want me, come and get me."

I needed him. His fingers on my skin, his lips on mine. The few feet between us felt like miles as those eyes burned into me, devoured me, tracing up and down my body until my swollen slit ached with a desire only he could release.

"You are a stunning little nightmare," he growled before plunging into the water, emerging inches away, grabbing my hand and spinning me until my back pressed against him fully. He curled around my body, reaching low, kissing the curve of my neck, water dripping from him as calloused fingers crept down my stomach. He stopped just above my core. When I lifted to my toes, his dark chuckle as he moved away amplified that vivid ache for him.

He reached into a basket sitting near the ledge. Dipping a cloth into the water, he held my gaze as he lathered, each corded muscle of his body tight, his skin so golden, flickering in the light of the flames, I needed nothing more than to run my fingers down the grooves of his body. Instead, he gestured for me to turn around. He surged forward until the water lapped at my waist.

Pulling my back flush to his chest again, he began. Inch by inch, he circled the cloth over my sensitive skin until it came alive beneath his touch. Warm breath caressed my ear, trailing down my neck. Orin was relentless. Bringing my body to life as if it were an instrument for him to learn. Fingers grazed the lower swell of my breast, forcing a small gasp as I filled with anticipation of his touch.

"Take a breath, Wife. I have no plans to rush this."

"It's cute that you think you're in charge."

His grip tightened, a hand sliding up to my throat. "You can have every other moment, but I own this one. I will lead, and you will follow. You will let me show you how much your body already belongs to me. Do you understand?"

I had no fight as he bit my earlobe, before sliding his hand back down, becoming slow. Painfully, blissfully slow as he washed my body, sliding that cloth up my thighs and between my legs.

"Answer," he growled.

"Yes."

"Good girl."

Gathering oil from the basket to drip over eager skin, apt fingers dug into my shoulders in a back massage that melted the world. I crossed my arms over the ledge, laying my head down and closing my eyes, giving him full access to massage every flower down each vine of my tattoo. His searing touch, the one that drew my power so effortlessly, left a burning path of need straight to my breasts before pooling in my lower belly. There was no rush, as he was sure to let me know, and he took his time, rubbing circles in perfect rhythm.

"I plan to turn those little mewls into screams, Nightmare, but I certainly appreciate the warmup."

"You talk too much," I moaned.

He grabbed the ends of my hair and yanked, balling it into a fist as he pulled me flush to him once more. "Be nice or you'll be punished. Those are the rules."

"If I had a blade, I'd pull it right now, just to see if you kept your word."

He laughed, that lung-crushing, heart-stopping laugh that was always so rare from him. "It wouldn't have been a proper wedding night without a threat of violence."

I turned to face him, pressing my naked body against his as I snaked my arms around his neck. "Wedding nights without daggers are never proper."

He traced a finger down my side before leaning down to kiss me. "Tell me what you want, Nightmare, and it is yours. It's been yours since the day we met."

"Only you, Orin. I just want us." I rested my hands on his chest, over the darkness taking root there. "And eternity."

He prowled forward. I closed my eyes, droplets of water falling down my cheeks, my heart pounding, my nerves standing on end with the promise that salacious look on his face delivered. I couldn't handle the way I needed him. Couldn't process the tremble between my legs begging for his touch. In one motion, he grabbed my waist and lifted, helping me to sit on the edge of the bath so I could stare down at him as he drank me. His jaw slacked, and a tongue flashed across his bottom lip.

Hands still slick with oil, he slowly spread my legs apart as he inched toward my core. Orin's fingers drifted close, so fucking close to where I needed him most, tracing fiery circles against my sensitive skin, heat pouring off him.

"Do you like it when I touch you here, Wife?"

I nodded.

He shifted a tiny bit closer, until the anticipation of his next move, the absolute need to feel him inside of me, thrummed.

"How about here?" His deep voice was strained and controlled, but only just.

"Don't play with your dinner, Orin. Or do, but please do it soon."

"Is that a plea, Wife?"

"It's whatever the hell you need it to be," I breathed.

"Yes, it is." With a wide grin, he stroked his fingers over me once, circling my clit, satisfying one small need by stoking another as he pulled his hands away and tasted me on them. "So fucking sweet. Just as I imagined. Gods, Deyanira."

I practically panted when those eyes met mine, watching me as he slid his thumb over me again. I buried my hands in his dripping dark hair. Aching for more. For him. The threads of our bond pulsed with need, just as I did.

He dug his fingers into my thighs, pulling me closer to the ledge, burying his face between my legs to claim the soft flesh waiting for him. Tongue flicking over me in a perfect rhythm, pushing his fingers inside, a pure, feral growl left him, the sound vibrating my thighs. He spiraled, eyes turning dark and dangerous as he tasted me in a way that carried me to the deepest pit of desire and the very height of sensitivity. Tilting my head back, fingers pulling on his hair, every second, every stroke, was torment and ecstasy. I needed to fall, to burst as he grazed his teeth over me, but I also never wanted him to stop, never wanted that plunge.

But still, I shattered. Still, I cried out his name, limbs trembling, begging him to stop, to relent for just one moment. Every muscle failed me as I lay back, the cool stone floor kissing my skin as I dragged air into my lungs, knowing I needed more of him. All of him.

He leaped from the water, splashing, dripping all over me as he lifted me from the floor and carried me to the rug before the fire, the flame's heat licking my skin dry as Orin perched above me, watching. Resting my hands on the sides of his face, I studied this version of him. He was so many things. Dark and unbreakable in dire moments, and tender in others. But whatever he was from one moment to another, it was usually fleeting, a battle he constantly waged. My equal. My everything.

As if he could read my thoughts, he pressed his lips to my ear. "Don't look at me like that, Nightmare, or we will never leave this bathhouse, and your eternity will be spent naked and writhing below me."

"I wouldn't complain."

A soft kiss to white lashes grew to feral nipping at my lips and breasts. He took himself in his hand and slid his tip right down my slit. I arched. He groaned. And then he surged forward, filling me completely before he withdrew and thrust again with a groan of contentment. Until our shared breaths became one, until the chaos of the moment turned calm, reliable. A steady rhythm. Until I knew each ridge of his cock, and he knew the walls that welcomed him. Until there was no light or darkness. Only him and I and a lingering promise of forever that took root, winding its sharpened talons around the core of this world, anchoring us both.

As he changed his pace, I raised my hips to meet him, and Orin took that as a sign that I needed him deeper. He lifted my leg, resting it on his shoulder, stretching those muscles. I couldn't have held back if I'd wanted to. I no longer had control over my body. I was his entirely as he stroked me, stretched me, and filled me to the brink, overwhelming my senses until I screamed his name. Addled thoughts coursed through my mind as I tried to remember anything beyond the unbridled pleasure of Orin pulsing inside of me.

He collapsed beside me, breaths ragged.

Though an ache settled between my legs, I twisted to face him, letting the fire warm my back. "You never washed."

"I know. I was saving it for round two."

The sun had risenbefore we'd snuck off to the house, crossing the grass, still damp with dew, creeping in and up the stairs until we fell into Orin's bed, getting lost in each other once more. It'd started with a kiss to my shoulder, and before I knew it, I was naked again, never feeling like I'd get enough of him and us and the eternity that waited.

When the exhaustion was finally too much, when our bodies were slick with sweat and our breaths ragged, I let my eyes fall shut. He curled up behind me, his warm body wrapping perfectly around mine.

Three breaths into the oblivion of sleep, I felt myself falling as I was yanked into Death's court, and that stunning face I'd seen so many times was deep red and full of fury.