The room suddenly became quiet, and before I can turn to Killian and seek the comfort of his steady embrace, the sound of Ereshkygall clearing her voice drags my attention to the door. Her hand is on the handle, but instead of leaving, she shuts it with a portent click.
“What’s the matter, Eresh?” Killian asks, his voice edged with the same impatience that’s coursing through my veins.
She regards us with sorrowful intensity, clasping her hands behind her back. Time seems to slow to a crawling pace as she utters her next words.
“My liege, Foretold One, there’s one more thing that you should know.”
Chapter 33
Aimee
Withjitteryfingers,Ifasten tight the last buckle on my deep crimson leather vest. It’s a new piece that Killian gifted me, with golden embossing swirling all over the chest and sides and shimmering trimmings at the waist where it flares into a half skirt, covering only my backside. Its plunging neckline reveals my Ouroboros mark and the swell of my breasts, rising and falling with every breath I drag into my lungs.
It’s supposed to make me look like a fierce warrior Queen, worthy of my Foretold One title and the fate bestowed upon me two thousand years ago. Yet, as I glance into the full-wall mirror in Killian’s chamber—our chamber—all I see is the fear marring my features. The deep-set of my eyebrows, the slight quiver of my lower lip, the tears I’m doing my damnedest to blink away.
Courage is not the absence of fear.
I can almost hear K’haram’s deep rumble lengthening the syllables, although my mental palace still remains closed off to him after our earlier, almost argument. I know that’s what he would say if he were in my head right now.
No, as I’ve come to understand, courage is the foolish ability to face head-on what terrifies you because it’sthe right thingto do. Even the greatest heroes drown in dread, maybe even more so because they carry the weight of their heroism like a gilded noose around their necks.
I wonder in passing what my grandmother would think of me now. The only family member who ever showed me kindness. She would be proud to know the female I’ve become, yet wilt with sorrow that it’s my twin, the villain I must slay.
No point in dwelling on fates we cannot change, I guess.
I grab my leather pants, determined to finish dressing for battle, just as Killian emerges from the en-suite bathroom, a towel draped low on his narrow waist. He comes up behind me, a finger caressing the exposed skin of my arms, as he offers me his other hand.
“There’s a place I never got the chance to show you, umbra,” he says in that rasping voice of his that has heated the blood in my veins since the first words he’s spoken to me.
“There’s no time, Killian,” I answer with a frown.
“We make our own time, love. Just as we made our own story.”
Reluctantly, I place my hand in his, and our surroundings melt in a swirl of crimson-black shadows, the reality taking shape around us lush green and sweet-scented.
We’re in a glass house.
All around, framed windows curl in a domed ceiling, exposing the harshness of the elements outside. The never-ending white plains, the blackened branches of dead trees spreading to the sky like bony fingers. Yet here inside, verdure covers every inch in rich leafy greens and an explosion of colorful flowers. The air is thick with fragrance: peonies, lilacs, and honeysuckle, the strongest ones. Steam rises lazily from a pond in the middle of the conservatory, like ephemeral tendrils vanishing into thin air.
“Where are we?” I ask, turning into Killian’s cold embrace, a stark but welcome contrast to the warmth permeating the air.
“Inside the castle grounds. My greenhouse,” he answers with a sheepish smile.
I never would have imagined the ruthless Vampire King liked such a mundane pursuit as gardening.
“An ode to my mother. She loved the luxuriating nature she was deprived of in her forced exile to the North. She used to describe flowers to me. Their shades, their aromas.”
I squeeze his fingers in understanding. A place to remember her by. An anchor against the corrosive passage of time.
“I wanted one last moment of tranquility for us before we face the inevitable. To bask in each other in a place that’s dear to my heart.”
I rise on my tiptoes and place a gentle kiss on his cheek.
“And I love you for that, Killian. That and a million other reasons that not even eternity would be enough for me to list them all.”
“I fear I love you more, my umbra,” he says, gathering me in his arms effortlessly and carrying me to the edge of the pond. With a flick of his fingers, his towel falls to the ground, revealing him in all his glorious nudity. My vest is next, removed carefully by his adept hands, and we sink into the warm waters.
Pristine white water lilies float all around us, and as I wrap my legs around his waist, any remaining tension from my muscles evanesces like morning mist.
