“You’re giving it up again if you stay here with me,” she finally says, her tone unreadable.
“Ah, but what you have to understand, Darling, is that there is no horizon I could chase in this world or the next that comes close to the high of loving you. For the first time in centuries, I am happy where I am.”
Happy to revel in the feel of her beneath my hands; in the delicate way she embraces the sharp pain of the needle as I etch the sprawl of our story permanently into her skin. I add multitudes of color, both because it embodies her magic and because I know she’ll love it. Willa devours any morsel of beauty like a woman starved, and now, she will be fed by the sight of her own skin.
And when I’m finished hours later, I help her to her feet and lead her to the mirror so she can see the story for herself.
I drink in the spark of her eyes, the part of her wicked mouth; I get dizzy on her gasp of pleasure and the pure joy radiating from her as she takes in the finished piece.
“The seven stars,” she breathes. “Just like you have carved on the headboard. What do they mean?”
I touch the first star at the base of her neck, goosebumps scattering wildly over the sensitive skin. “It depends which world you’re in. Some say they were gods once that ruled the universe. Others tell the story of celestial events colliding and bursting into pieces, while there are cultures who believe they are humans sent to the sky to watch over us after their ordinary deaths. But all the stories share the same basic tenets…They all believe the stars hold the magic of the universe.”
I trace the first one, a design all in black that speaks of Willa and I before her fall into Letum. “Fate.”
I drag my finger down to the next star, the one that shines the brightest in our sky and on her skin. The star that cracked open my entire existence when it called her to me. “Possibility.”
Willa exhales a soft sound of pleasure, taking in the undulating design of the words. The way they crash against each other before tangling into one beautiful entity. The tale of when we first met.
My hand trails lower. “The third star…polarity. For everything must have an opposite. An antithesis. And I found mine in you.”
I draw my finger further, tracing the words of our dance together. The push and the pull. The breaking of walls, and the discomfort of healing. “Energy. The universe is in a constant state of movement, and so are we.”
I circle the fifth star. “Rhythm…the cadence of life. Of the air and water. Of the hum of magic and the pulse of blood. The beat of our hearts.” And then the sixth, a wild spill of colors. “Cessation. As everything has a beginning, everything has an end. Which brings us to the seventh star, essence. The beginning. The life that blooms from an end…from fate, from possibility.”
Before Willa, I thought my heart a rotted, dead thing. But as I take in her happiness, as I see myself marked permanently on her sacred skin, I think it may explode from feelingtooalive. Too full. Tooeverything.
“Our story…woven into the magic of the universe,” she says, still gazing at the tattoo. “Niko, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
She rises to her tiptoes, lacing her fingers in my hair to drag my mouth to hers. I languish in the indolent exploration of the kiss, the gentle promise that gives rise to violent longings, no matter how many times I possess her. Before, everything with Willa and I was a rush of ferocity, but now, there is a sanctity in the slowness—in the knowledge that for an entire multitude of worlds, I am the only thing that has made Willa feel safe enough to pause.
And I will forever be grateful that she saw through the death in my veins—through the desperation and the cruelty and the schemes—to know the truth of my heart.
I used to wish so desperately for time to move—to free Letum andliveagain—but now, I only wish for it to freeze. To pause the enemies coming for both of us, pause the drain of Willa’s magic and the ruination of the island.
And the truth is, I only know one way to freeze time. Perhaps the same thing that made me wish for an end for so many centuries, can now be our new beginning. It will take so much sacrifice on both our parts, but for the chance at eternity—I’ll burn on whatever pyre I need to.
“Willa—"
The rest of the words never make it from my mouth as Willa’s eyes suddenly flash wide in panic. Her hands fly to her chest, as if she means to pull out whatever lives beneath her sternum.
“What is it?” My death has already speared into the air, ready for the invisible threat.
Willa’s expression is grave. “It’s Pan. He’s back.”
Chapter forty-four
My connection to the island pulls taut, each beat of my heart a painful blow against my ribs. Letum’s magic begins to roil through my veins, awakened by the return of its creator. And then he is there, standing on the black sand of the lagoon.
Though Pan is too far away to see properly, I know him by the inhuman way he holds himself. The odd glow that emanates from him, the way the air itself seems to draw toward him.
He stares up at the Lunaedon, like he can see through the windows. Like he can see throughus.
“He…he looks like he’s alone,” I remark warily.
Niko’s voice is a near growl, a muscle feathering in his jaw. “Things are never as they appear with Peter. Announcing himself so boldly…It doesn’t feel right. He’s up to something.”
Before I can consider it further, a sudden pounding on the door nearly sends me flying out of my skin. My bare feet skate over the parquet in my haste to press a palm to the carved wood, certain whatever else is wrong waits on the other side.
