“Something like that,” I manage.
Maybe later, I’ll tell them that I essentially poisoned myself with my own ichor to fall from the heavens. But that’s not important. The point is, I survived and now all I have to do is end Amadeus and figure out what the hell I swore to do—and then we have our entire future in front of us.
But as if the universe wants to mock me, Crypt tries not to grimace as his markings light up yet again. He’s kept his leather jacket on all day to keep me from seeing more of his markings slowly vanishing.
I saw them last night, though. So many of them are gone.
My pounding heart aches. Maybe I don’t have a future with him.
“Tell me why your markings are fading,” I demand.
“My love, now is not the time to?—”
“Tell me.”
Crypt studies my eyes before looking away. “Historically speaking, only one incubus at a time can bear the markings of the gods. As the current stewardship draws to a close, the steward is freed of their holy marks just before the next incubus is born into the curse.”
That’s a delicate way to put it very bluntly.
My Nightmare Prince is losing his marks because he’s dying faster than I realized.
And the fucking curse doing this to him can’t be broken.
My stomach churns so suddenly and angrily that I try to get out of Crypt’s arms. He tightens them with a sigh. “Be angry at me, darling, but allow me to hold you. Or if my touch bothers you?—”
“I’m going to be sick,” I warn him, gagging.
He quickly releases me before I turn and vomit on the stairs. It takes a moment before I can straighten again, wiping my mouth and swallowing down the remaining visceral reaction to the thought of one of my matches dying.
I refuse. I won’t let it happen.
Somehow, therehasto be a way to fix this. I’ll find it.
Crypt pulls me back into his arms immediately, holding me so tightly I feel like it could almost put me back together as he murmurs against my ear. “I’m sorry for being such a godsdamned fool and speeding up this cursed process. You’ve no idea how sorry I am. How can I help you forgive me?”
“I won’t,” I finally manage, pulling away to glare up at his beautiful violet eyes. “I already lost Lillian. I can’t do this. If Ilose you, I’m never going to fucking forgive you for leaving me. Understand?”
They’re angry words. I probably don’t mean them all.
He nods anyway, gently cradling my face and looking more serious than I’ve ever seen him. “I understand.”
“No, you—that’s not—” I huff, so frustrated I can’t even put it into words.
My incubus exhales, brushing a light kiss on my forehead. “I need this, darling. Every shade of your anger, your bliss, even your terror. Every fragment of you. I want everything I can get with you, so I ask that when I do give up the ghost?—”
“Stop,” I snap, wiping at my face because why the fuck is there moisture on my cheeks?
Crypt presses on anyway, his whisper bordering on desperate. “My darling, I only ask that you hold back from reaping whatever I have for a soul, when the time comes. Whatever I’ll be after this, I’ll belong to you just the same. Keep what’s left of me in a bottle, if you like. Let my wretched soul haunt you and hate me if that’s easier, but please justkeep me.”
If I could be sick again, I would. The idea of Crypt being one of the many ghosts that follow me everywhere is too much.
But at the same time, I already know I will never be able to let any of my quintet go. If anything happens to us in this battle, they’re stillmine. They’ll have no choice except to haunt me until the day I pass on—and if my mother tries to reap them, so fucking help me, I will fight her myself.
Taking a deep breath, I nod. It’s all I can seem to do.
Crypt smiles sadly, resting his forehead against mine briefly. “What a brave muse I have.”
I can’t stand feeling all these feelings, so just like I used to do when I was young, I lock them in a box inside my chest.
