I stagger back. Lucian steps forward instantly, fear flooding his eyes.
“Evelynn,” he says softly. “You’re scaring me. What is it?”
“You never said Sister Mary Joan,” I breathe. I swallow. “You know her.”
“The dark-haired king of darkness,” I say, my voice sounding distant and hollow. “The stories she told me when I was little. Every night. About a dark-haired king hiding from evil. Hiding from a world that hunted him.” My chest tightens so much I can barely breathe. “How did I not see it?”
“Me?” Lucian whispers. His voice fractures.
I nod. “Eyes so bright they see into your soul.” Tears spill freely now. “Strong. Powerful. Always fighting.” The memories flood through me like something breaking open. “He fights for his queen,” I sob. “He protects her no matter the cost. And sacrifice…” My knees weaken. “Sacrifice is his only salvation.” The words come out shattered.
Lucian shakes his head slowly, devastation carving into his face.
And in that moment, I understand.
This was never a love story.
It was a prophecy.
And I am the ending.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LUCIAN
I sit on the roof,surrounded by the silence of the forest. Only the creatures that emerge when darkness falls keep me company, the moonlit sky my sole source of light in the sheer shadow of night.
I hear his approach, the sound amplified in the stillness. “You’re back,” I state, lighting a cigarette without turning to greet him. He sits beside me.
“I’ve been gone less than a day, and it’s already turned to shit,” Cain says, trying to ease the tension.
I glance to the side, looking at him. “Anything?” I ask.
“Yeah, got a translation book. Viktor and Hex are down there now deciphering the nun’s book,” hestates. I should feel happy about that, but all I can think of is Evelynn and everything she said.
“How long are you going to sit up here and sulk?” Cain asks. His question irks me.
“Sulk? Fucking sulk?” I fume, my anger rising. “I’ve just found out that Evelynn was essentially raised for me, like some ancient, arranged marriage. A prophecy from some old nun, and now, no matter what, I have to sacrifice myself to end this? End what? I have no idea.” I rant, offloading everything battling in my mind. “I was her bedtime story as a child. Do you know how fucked up that sounds?” I sigh, shaking my head.
“Nothing about our lives is normal, and this—” He takes the cigarette from my hand, taking a pull before handing it back to me. “—is fucked up, but not a surprise. You knew something was amiss the moment you marked a mortal and she survived. Anathema closing in. It all didn’t make sense. Now, as much as it’s really fucked up—and I’m sorry, brother, truly I am—it answers those questions, at least a little bit. As for fighting Anathema and winning, I’ve got no idea.”
“Do you know what’s worse out of all this? It’s not the prospect of me losing my life; it’s not me having to sacrifice myself. It’s that I will lose her,” I grit, emotion ripping at my chest. “I’m already losing her. She’squestioning my feelings, her feelings, as if it were all a spell cast upon us. Like nothing I feel is real.” I admit, my gut twisting in agony. Being up here away from her, when I know she’s curled up in my bed crying. I can feel her pain, feel her heart breaking with every sob.
“Then why are you up here letting her thoughts win?” Cain chastises. “You feel every ounce of pain she is feeling right now. Fucking spell, curse, whatever it is. It doesn’t matter. Go to her. You know, for a stubborn asshole, you’re being a namby-pamby.”
“A namby-pamby?” I ask, perplexed.
He grins, elaborating, “Yeah, a wuss, a chicken, a wimp, cry-baby, a fucking pussy.”
“You come up with some weird shit,” I say, shaking my head.
“Stop bitching with me and go to her,” he demands. I don’t move, not ready to face her yet. “Silas is comforting her,” he adds, knowing the thought will poke red-hot, possessive jealousy into me.
I’m on my feet, storming at lightning speed to her, Cain’s laughter echoing behind me. I swing the door open with force; Evelynn jolts upright, clutching the sheet to her chest, her dark eyes red and puffy. Silas is nowhere to be seen. “Lucian.” Her voice is a broken, pleading rasp. I slam the door shut behind me and goto her, wrapping her in my arms and inhaling her scent as a soothing essence as I cradle her on my lap.
“Evelynn. Look at me.” My voice leaves no room for argument. She lifts her head from my chest, dark strands falling across her face. I sweep them away with gentle fingers, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my touch, so alive it aches. “We are not a prophecy,” I say fiercely. “What I feel for you could never be summoned. It could never be made.” I press my forehead to hers, cupping her face in my hands. “We might have been destined to cross paths. Maybe even destined to become friends. But this?” My voice drops. “This was a choice. Mine. What I feel for you exists because I decided to feel it. Because I wanted you. Not because some ancient nun whispered it into your childhood stories.”
I brush my lips over hers, breathing her in. “How do you know?” she whispers. A dark smile touches my mouth.
