She just hoped that one day, he would forgive her.
Chapter Four
Daemon
Despite the ache that settled into his soul the moment he walked away from Auraelia—again—warmth filled his chest as they pulled away from Lyndaria’s harbor.
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and hope filled him. Hope that they were on their way pastthis. Hope that the connection they’d rekindled in that dark office of the brothel was enough to bring her back to him.
The warmth in his chest turned to a gentle, yet firm, tug. It was a feeling he hadn’t had in months and something he hadn’t fully realized was there until it was gone.
The pendant.
He’d felt it the moment she’d taken it off all those months ago. It was like a light had been dimmed, casting his world in a bleakshade of gray, and his shadows had shuttered at the feeling. Like they, too, knew that she’d cut herself off from him.
But now? Warmth filled his body, and shadows purred beneath his skin.
It wasn’t long before the familiar feeling of magic twisted along his arm before dissipating into his pocket.
Daemon slipped his hand into the silk lining of his vest pocket and ran his fingers over the rough texture of the parchment and the warmth that still lingered on the wax seal.
Only, it wasn’t the usual thinly folded letter.
This one was bulging on the sides, and it was like a stone weighing down his pocket.
A stone…
“Fuck,” Daemon muttered beneath his breath.
Grasping the letter in his fist, he pushed away from the rail and headed toward his cabin below. Men scurried around the deck, shouting commands and acknowledging them, throwing lines and moving supplies, but all of that faded into the background as the letter in his pocket grew heavier and heavier.
Below deck, he slammed the door.
Running his hands through his already messy hair, Daemon sank down onto his bed and pulled the offending parchment from his pocket.
It lacked her usual finesse.
There was no sprig of lavender.
The seal was done haphazardly and warped around the odd shape of the bundle in his hand.
Taking a quavering breath, Daemon pried open the letter and gently pulled apart the folds. There, nestled in the middle, was the pendant he’d given her. His shadows, once swirls of living darkness in its center, sat stagnant and lifeless.
He lifted the stone and saw that beneath it, written in shaky script, were two words that would haunt him for the rest of his days.
I’m sorry.
Daemon balled up the paper and hurled it across the small space.
Pushing his fingers through his hair, he pulled at the roots. Needing physical pain to drown out the anguish in his chest.
How could she do this? How could she give up so easily?
He began to rock as pain bled into anger. His shadows began to seep out of him, filling the space around him until the entire ship was encompassed in the darkness that shrouded his soul.
It took a full day and part of the following night to make it back to Kalmeera.
Daemon’s fit of magic inhibited Raneese from seeing where she was going, and they had to stop until he was able to pull back his shadows.
