Like I did with Ariyon.
I blew out a slow breath and then stood, putting the books back where they belonged.‘Tell Dad I’m on my way home,’I told Yanric.
He was working on his communication magic and was able to transfer short sentences to other people’s minds even though they weren’t bonded like we were. It was easiest to do with my father and Eden, since he was closer to them—and it helped that they kept him filled with snacks.
I grabbed a few more books I knew Mrs. Silvers wouldn’t mind me borrowing and slipped them into my bag before heading out.
The school was closed. The lights were off, and everyone had gone home. Mrs. Silvers had agreed to leave the library open for us, but the door locked behind us when we left.
I walked down the familiar pathway, toward the courtyard where Ariyon had first kissed me. The Gilded City had mild winters, but it was still chilly out, so I pulled my cloak up over my head to cover my ears. When I recognized the archway that led into the secret garden and the place that held Ariyon’s art studio, I stopped.
My heart thumped wildly at the memory of finding him here drinking, of seeing the tally marks on the wall that counted the days that had been taken from his life, of the paintings. Suddenly I wanted to see them again, to feel like I was near him. An ache had formed in my chest, and I needed to try to ease it. Ducking into the garden, I walked right up to the door that led to the studio hidden among the flowers and vines.
If it was locked, I wasn’t above breaking in. I wanted so badly to see the paintings again, to touch something he’d recently touched. I couldn’t explain it, but ever since I’d met Ariyon, it felt like I was pulled in his direction no matter how many times I fought it. He was the only person in the realm who could touch me. It was hard not to feel like he was made for me.
I twisted the knob, and the door squeaked open. I fumbled with the switch until I could get the lights on, and then a sob formed in my throat when I glanced at the easel to my right.
It was new.
Propped on it was a painting of when Ariyon and I were in the broom closet. He’d captured the moment his thumb was pulling down my bottom lip.
I looked to the left of that painting to see another. I was holding hands with Ayden in the lunchroom, and at the back of the room, Ariyon had painted himself, hunched forward and staring at his food as if avoiding looking at us.
I felt like I was violating his privacy by being here, but I couldn’t look away. There were so many stories being told here. Months of his artistic talent laid bare for me to see. I pulled off my gloves, shoving them in my pocket, and stroked the painted finger pulling down my lip. Then I peered at the other paintings.
Marissa painted beside me, our likenesses uncanny. The tower that held the queen, tipping forward as I stood beneath it with my palms raised, keeping her airborne.
He saw everything, committed it to memory, and then spent hours painting it with such pristine detail that it made tears leak from the edges of my eyes.
I riffled through a stack of paintings that leaned against the far wall and stilled on one that made my blood run cold.
It must have been done right after he met me.
It was a portrait of my face, but my eyes were black. He had depicted me as a full-blown Nightling with shadows enveloping me from all sides. Was this his greatest fear? That I would become this? And now, he was faced with it himself, something I was pretty sure he never thought possible.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to the room, to his art, to his memories.
Yanric burst through the wall then, a puff of black shadow, before solidifying at my shoulder.
“I’m coming for dinner!” I snapped, wiping at my eyes.
‘Okay, sorry. I panicked when I couldn’t find you,’Yanric admitted, landing on my shoulder and peering around the room.
‘I think he was falling in love with you,’Yanric said as he surveyed the paintings around us, so many of them with me as the main subject.
My heart stopped beating at his words.‘Was?’
‘I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that…’he trailed off.
I nodded.‘Just that he isn’t going to love me after my psycho mother buried an axe in his chest and I sent him to the Realm of Rebirth so that he can come back a Nightling?’
Yanric winced, ducking his feathered head low.‘You two might have some relationship issues after that, yes.’
I barked out a laugh. It was too depressing to even think about.‘Let’s go home.’
I exited the art studio, making sure the door was latched behind me, and then ducked out of the archway and back into the courtyard.
‘Look out!’Yanric barely had time to warn me before someone reached out and grabbed my bun, yanking me backward.
