Nathaira frowned and placed a hand on the top of Cassian’s shoulder. “I know you are hurting, Cassian, but do not let Ruelle turn you into her—obsessed with vengeance and hurting others to get it.”
The mention of Ruelle’s name filled his mouth with a bitter taste.
“I appreciate the effort, Nathaira, but I will do whatever I must to ensure Vale reveals Naia’s presence on his island.” Hegently lifted her hand from his shoulder and took a step. “And when this is all said and done, Ruelle will be nothing but bone caught between my teeth.”
Cassian heldonto the flickers of light shining across his ceiling.
One day, he told himself.
The muscles in his chest spasmed with grief as he lay in bed, its other side an empty satin pit.
Finnian was in the gleam of the fireflies painting his ceiling; the lingering earthy scent and floral fragrance were still embedded in the pillow; the bundle of dried lavender hung above the headboard.
One day, Cassian recited over and over in his mind.We will have our one day.
It did nothing to relieve the ache clawing apart his entrails.
He left the bed and did not return to it, as the comfort, the sleep, did not come as easily to him anymore.
Cassian waitedon the dais of his throne, his hands confined to his pockets, too on edge to sit. It took a grave amount of effort to remain still on his feet.
Mavros stood at his side, hands joined in front of him, in a somber quiet.
Four Errai emerged alongside the soul, a wall cloud of bodies draped in slate robes and pale-plated masks.
Cassian’s heart pounded, the beat of blood thick in his ears.
The familiar soul stopped before Cassian, the flare of its energy dripping crimson. It pulsed like a heart, harboring lifetimes of pain and sorrow and resilience.
“Let me go back,” they said.
“Not yet.” Cassian’s eyes jumped to the deity on the right. “Take them to the Lavender Fields of Healing.”
“I must go back to her,” the soul protested.
The feeling of splinters lodged in Cassian’s heart. He resonated with those words, but his empathy could not sway his decision. “You will.Soon. One day.”
The soul’s energy festered, an intense flare of vivid red. “I must?—”
A heavy shadow of divine power rose from behind Cassian, clawing over his shoulders and around his head—a terrifying, umbral backdrop. “You will obey me, as I am your master in the afterlife. You are to rest,heal. When the time comes, I will allow you to return.” He flashed his eyes onto the deity to the right again. “Now, take them away.”
Before the soul could dispute, they disappeared amongst a tailspin of swirling blackness.
Cassian pinched the bridge of his nose, his lungs constricting his breath.
Mavros cleared his throat. “My lord, I?—”
“High God of Death and Curses.”
Cassian’s pulse jarred. He held up a hand to silence Mavros.
“I summon you.”
Spurts of adrenaline pumped through his system at the sound of Mira’s summoning.
Finally.
That flicker of hope within him burned brighter.
