“You don’t have to do anything.”
“You heard what she said. A sacrifice is the next reasonable step.” He removed his hands from his face, looking up at her with dark rings around his eyes and the weight of the world on his shoulders.
She’d never seen him look so tired. Not sad or worried or plagued with fear. Just bone-deep tired.
Dragging her thumbs along the dark circles beneath his gaze, she stepped between his legs as he looped his arms around her hips. “Why are you sad?”
“They will beg you to sacrifice me soon enough. And one day you will see the reason in it. You will regret your vow to me, but a vow to a god cannot be broken.” His hands spasmed against her back. “You will die trying to protect me, and there is no way to stop the future that barrels toward us. The coven is just the first step toward that end.”
“The coven will be what we make it,” she insisted. “You will be the god we serve and you will not have to die.”
“It is a pleasant dream.”
“A dream we will sew into the fabric of reality.” Jessamine tugged him forward, pressing their foreheads together as she breathed him in. “We need her, Elric. I need to take this throne back the right way. And I need tofind Fortuna so we know what Leon is planning, and how he destroyed an entire royal family in one day. I saw her in Callum’s mind. She worked with him, just like Callum did. I am not prepared to fight Leon yet, but I damn well will get answers out of her. We cannot remake this kingdom without giving the people of Inverholm a reason to trust me before we do it.”
Please, she thought.Please believe me.
Because in the end, this was all his choice. Elric was the last living god, and the one most humans feared. He was the blackened shape that took on the form of their nightmares. And yet, without him, she and Sybil were nothing. Just a duo of witches who had no real power.
He sighed, and the breath played across her collarbone. “Get your scrying bowl, gravesinger.”
“Why?”
“I want to see this witch who sacrifices such a great deal to me. I want to know who she is, and where she is.”
“Can’t you just go to her?” Jessamine leaned back to look into his eyes. “You always just appeared to me.”
“Because I wanted to.” His gaze moved over every one of her features, and she could see when he looked at them. Reveled in the darkness of her eyes, lingered along the slightly downturned edges of her lips, and basked in the savagery of the scar across her throat. “I do not wish to appear to this witch so easily. The worship of a god should never be simple, Jessamine Harmsworth. It should be a labor of belief.”
He released his hold on her hips so she could fetch her scrying bowl. The behemoth made of silver was hard to move, especially when she filled it with water, so she made certain it was in the perfect spot before she began the spell.
Elric approached behind her, his hands on her hips as he guided her words. The spell fell from her lips with ease, even as the heat between them built. As always, the tension of their magic summoned her baser needs.
She could feel the breath in his lungs feathering down her shoulders and across her collarbone. His hands clenched at her sides, the grip almost too tight and yet inspiring so many memories.
They’d only had one night of passion after they’d defeated Callum. One night that she dreamt of every single moment that she could. A flash of a memory burned behind her eyes as she closed them, tilting her head back against his shoulder and breathing in his scent. She knew how strong those hands were. She knew now what it was like to feel him gripping her thighs as he plunged inside of her.
She knew the taste of his passion, and she wanted more than just a lingering sip.
“Focus, gravesinger,” he murmured in her ear as she arched against him. “Focus on what you seek.”
What she sought was him. The taste of him, the magic of him, the power that surged through her body with every thrust.
“Bend to my will.” His voice echoed in her mind, like he was part of her. Like he was already inside of her. “Open your eyes and find the witch who worships me.”
It was her. Jessamine worshipped him even though she was terrified to admit it.
But no, that wasn’t who they were looking for. Jessamine opened her eyes and stared into the still water that reflected their image back at her. Then the reflection of her own face warped, shifted, and suddenly she was looking through a mirror at another woman. A pale, sickly looking creature with sunken eyes and mousy brown hair that stuck up in every direction. Curls, a riot of them around her face as she looked into the water with equal amounts of horror and intrigue.
“Who are you?” the woman asked, but her voice was warped, as though she was underwater.
“I am no one and everyone.” The words spilled from Jessamine’s tongue as though another person had grasped her jaw and puppeted her mouth. “I am the one you seek and the one who was summoned. I seek you, witch, to reward your bravery.”
“Deathless One?” the woman breathed, but she had to know that who she saw in the mirror was just Jessamine. Not…
But then she could see it as well. The dark shadow behind the witchwas the same one that Jessamine felt pressed against her spine. Elric was here with her, but he was also with the other witch.
“We are coming for you,” Jessamine said, her voice strangely warped. “Where are you?”
