The Nightshade was soaking wet, his hair and clothes dripping. He didn’t seem to care.
Oro narrowed his eyes at him. “You tried the portal again, didn’t you?” He supposed he couldn’t really expect anything different. “And it didn’t work.”
“Obviously,” Grim snarled.
Oro considered keeping his dream with Isla to himself. He wanted to. But as much as Grim was clearly comfortable working on his own, working together would be the best way to get Isla back. “I saw her,” Oro finally said.
Grim paused. “What do you mean,you saw her?” he asked, very slowly.
“In my dreams.”
Oro could see the tensing of his shoulders. Grim obviously wasn’t thrilled that his wife had been in his dream. Still, his voice was steady as he said, “What did she say?”
“She asked me to stop looking for her.”
Grim nodded. He didn’t seem surprised.
“She visited you too,” Oro guessed.
“Of course she visited me,” Grim snarled. “She’s my wife.”
The word burned him. Grim seemed to know that. Revel in it. Still...he didn’t ask more about the dream. Oro didn’t know why he felt the need to say, “That was all. Nothing else—”
“I don’t care what happened,” Grim snapped.
Oro just looked at him as bitterness coated his tongue.
“I don’t enjoy it, of course,” Grim clarified, scowling. “The thought that you care about her. That she...cares about you.” Grim’s shadows were spilling behind him, clawing the stone floor, like a representation of what the Nightshade wanted to do to Oro. “But it is no one’s fault but my own.”
That last sentence sounded so dejected, so unlike Grim, that Oro could only blink. But he was telling the truth. Oro felt the sweetness of it, on his tongue. “You actually mean that.”
Grim glared at him. “It would be a waste of breath, I think, lying to someone who could sense truths.”
Oro hated Grim. He had been at war with him twice in their lifetimes. Once, just months ago. He was a villain. He had cruelly killed thousands.
But Oro was almost ashamed to admit that he didn’t hateallof him. No...being here with Grim, in this castle...it was easy to fall into the friendship they had shared for decades. Before the curses. Before...her.
Strangely, she had brought them together again.
Perhaps that was why guilt swirled through Oro’s chest. He couldn’t keep working with Grim without making this admission.
“In the desert. A little while ago. We...” Oro frowned. He and Isla hadn’t necessarily done anything. Not everything he had wanted to, anyway. He remembered running that melting ice down her skin, watching the goosebumps erupt at his touch. He had been helping her get relief from the heat...but he knew very well that wasn’t all they were doing.
Grim scowled. “I know about the desert. She told me.”
Oro blinked. “She...did?” He considered whether he should be readying himself for another fight.
But Grim only nodded. “She is halved. Part of her, the part of her that fell in love with you, is not my wife. I know that. I take full responsibility for it.”
Oro couldn’t believe these words were coming out of the Nightshade’s mouth. Grim seemed to sense his surprise, because he said, “Loving her has made me better.” His gaze was piercing. “Even if you believe my love has madeherworse.”
The Grim he knew before would have never been this forgiving. He had held a grudge against him for centuries, after all. It was true. Love had changed him.
Grim motioned toward the threads on Oro’s table, clearly done with this conversation. “What’s your progress?”
He shook his head. “I can’t use it anymore. The last time I did, I hurt my friends,” Oro said.
Grim just stared at him blankly. “I don’t care about your friends,” he said.
