Half an hour later, I’m sewn into the suit in question by another personal attendant. From the neck down, black leather covers every inch of my body like a second skin. And once I put on my helmet, not one part of me will be exposed.
My chest rises and falls rapidly as soon as the last attendant leaves the oversized space. I take a measured inhale, reminding myself it’s for my protection. Although my previous encounter with the sun didn’t have the disastrous outcome I’d expected, the last thing I want to do is expose too much of myself to its mutating light. Like Kalden said, all I need is a slit in the palms of my gloves.
I lift the headgear from the wrought iron vanity’s glass top, intenton securing the final piece of protection. But I hesitate when I catch sight of my reflection. My tawny curls have been subdued into an orderly braided bun near the nape of my neck. The purple lamplight reveals a tint of color enhancing my small but full lips, and there’s a dewy glow to my normally ashen cheeks. If it weren’t for my mother’s almond-shaped amber eyes staring back at me, I’d sooner believe the woman in the mirror is a stranger than a true reflection of myself. She looks too . . . vibrant. Healthy. Ironic, that I’d appear more alive than ever on the brink of death.
I wipe at my mouth with the back of my hand, but the rosy stain doesn’t budge. So, I tug a few strands loose from my bun, disheveling the too-perfect updo. Now that the reflection’s more of an acquaintance than a stranger, I ease my head onto the vanity. Cool glass kisses my forehead as I tilt side to side, letting the solid surface massage away the building tension behind my brow bones.
Metal screeches against the limestone floor as the door to the chamber cracks open. I flinch, nearly tumbling off the stool before catching myself and jumping to my feet.
“Shadows’ mercy,” Gabe whispers as he shoves the door shut. Pressing his back to the wall, he waits, presumably to see if anyone is coming to investigate the disturbance.
Several seconds pass. No one comes knocking, and he peels himself from the stone wall.
He’s swapped his ceremonial cloak for a familiar navy suit that’s impeccably tailored. The silver threads of the crescent moon crest sewn above his heart reflect the lamp’s violet glimmer.
“So much for sneaking in.” He smiles sheepishly, and a shadow of a dimple flashes on one side of his tilted lips for a split second before his face sobers. “I’m so sorry, Elle. This wasn’t supposed to hap?—”
I hold up a palm. “You need to leave.”
His apology, his presence, and that sun-damned nickname are not welcome here. His guilty conscience can go piss itself above.
“I know,” he says, ruffling a hand through his auburn hair. “I won’t stay long. I just needed to see you before . . .”
He trails off, so I finish the sentence for him, folding my arms against my chest.
“Before your biggest mistake is gone for good? I thought you’d be happy. You won’t have to alter your commute to avoid running into me anymore. Won’t have to explain to your children why that strange woman has the same surname as them.”
His pinched expression sharpens. “They have nothing to do with why I’m here.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I cross a line? Am I supposed to pretend like they don’t exist? Or would you rather I’m the one who disappears?” I laugh, though there’s no mirth in my voice. “Good news: looks like you’re getting your wish.”
“Do you truly believe I want that?” Gabe takes a step forward, and I shift backward. At my silence, he presses softly, “The last thing I want is for you to disappear, Elle.”
I close my eyes. There was a time I would’ve devoured those words, greedy for any breadcrumb of affirmation he deigned to toss my way. Now, I reject them, no longer willing to accept breadcrumbs as sustenance.
I square my jaw and force my eyes back open. “Even if that’s true, it doesn’t matter what you want or what I want. What’s done is done.”
Distant footsteps carry through the crack of the metal doorframe.
Instead of backing away, Gabe draws closer—close enough for the familiar fresh scent of clean linen to scratch at once-blissful memories now buried.
His breath ignites every nerve in my ear as he whispers, “Whatif it isn’t?”
There’s a gleam in those deep blue irises that’s almost as terrifying as it is baffling.
“What do you mean?”
Gabe’s lips part, ready to explain, when the thud of boots grows closer. He pulls back, searching for a place to hide. Though this bathing chamber is generously sized, its furnishings are sparse. There are only two good options for hiding: behind the partition curtains concealing the iron soaking tub, or beneath the vanity, though the latter is barely large enough to accommodatemyframe. Gabe isn’t much taller, but his broad shoulders give him an added width that may prove too difficult to squeeze beneath the vanity.
He climbs into the tub as the door groans open.
I adjust myself on the stool, spinning around with a sigh as I prepare to face the snooping guards.
But it isn’t a guardsman standing before me with eyes that could freeze the sun itself.
Spine straightening, I lock gazes with my ex-father-in-law.
His suit is much like his son’s, yet with far more embellishments. Being the elected leader of Caligo, his crest has a star above the crescent moon emblem. Two silver peace pins with engraved depictions of a handshake—pins he awarded himself at the end of his prior two terms for lowering the number of violent crimes while doubling the birth rate—are fastened beneath his breast pocket. A black ribbon encircling his right bicep denotes his oath to serve the shadows first, the people second.
