In the dim light, I grew weary. I must’ve fallen asleep on his chest because sometime later he stirred beneath me with a groan.
“Shh, it’s okay,” I whispered, sitting up and brushing the damp hair from his eyes.
Then I heard it—thunder. The dripping water above had turned into a rhythmic drumming, the sound growing louder and more insistent in the still space. It was raining, and given the erosion we’d seen in this area, itwas entirely possible that this space would flood with us trapped within it. I wasn’t strong enough to keep Emrys’s dead weight above rising water.
Scared and frustrated, I racked my mind for other ideas. My magic was weak outside my specialty. I couldn’t do much to help us.
But Emrys was strong.Andhis curse wanted to be fed.
Still beside him, I closed my eyes and pressed both hands to the sides of his face. His inner hellscape, as he’d called it, craved destruction, so I gathered every ounce of frustration and rage at our entrapment, my fear of losing him, my pity, and seething anger at the Assembly for using my family to keep me in line.
Wake up. Please, wake up.
Raw, desperate magic erupted from me as I leaned over him still prostrate on the muddy ground. It slammed against his mind in a searing tide that I set to burn rather than calm. His curse didn’t recoil from me this time. It welcomed my chaos.
Emrys suddenly gasped like he’d been pulled from drowning, body jerking beneath mine. For a second, his eyes darted wildly. Amid the mental disorder created by my magic, his panic sharpened to a single point of focus: me.
It was the curse again, staring at me through his eyes. This time, something about it saw me with an insight beyond human capacity, as deeply as I could understand others through their emotions.
Maybe it was that I’d just poured my darkest thoughts into it. But I couldn’t help but think that I’d found my counterpoint in so many ways. That should’ve scared me, but it didn’t. It felt…right, like a little piece of the universe had found balance when I accepted it.
Seeing Emrys’s panic and confusion, my instinct to calm kicked in, and I poured that into him instead. He needed something steady, and in this moment, that had to be me. I’d seen the evidence of his control, yet provoking the curse further would be unwise.
“Isca…” he wheezed.
“You’re awake,” I whispered, stunned with relief.
I held his face. The faint stubble of his beard against my fingertips was far softer than I’d imagined. I didn’t pull away as I poured calm into him.
His voice was rough. “Are you hurt?”
“No. You protected me.”
He groaned like the pain was just now catching up to him. Even in agony, he tried to shut me out of his emotions again.
“There’s no need, Prince Emrys, I’m used to it by now. You’ve been unshielded for hours. Though, honestly, I have no idea how long we’ve been down here.”
His throat worked. But eventually he managed a croak. “What did you do to wake me? I feel…”
“I pushed the curse a little,” I admitted. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Slowly, with a wince, he moved his hands to lightly encircle my forearms, still not pulling away like I’d expected him to. “I think I needed whatever you did to me.”
Our eyes met in the half-light. Beyond the magic, something profoundly human passed between us, devoid of the curse. He held me with a surprisingly tender touch, his rough fingers steady and gentle on my skin.
His eyes on me were heavy, half-lidded. And for a fraught moment, I worried I was going to have to knee him again.
But the way he looked back up at me held the same careful gentleness as his hands, as if I were a precious object. He hadn’t closed himself off again, so I could read him. His underlying fear, his restraint, showed me he feared he would break me.
“You can’t keep avoiding me like this,” I whispered.
“No,” he said, voice low, hoarse from dust and pain. His hand came up to cup my cheek. “I can’t.”
A fragile silence hung between us, two people tenuously bound by shared circumstance and need. His thumb lingered exactly where Nisien had first touched me, as if he could brush his touch away like the dirt still marring my face, as if he was slowly coming to a decision.
“What you said before leaving my room about doing things out of order—you were right. I must make amends.”
And then he kissed me.
