I would’ve ripped apart the veil between realms with my bare hands to get her back—but instead, she had to do that for me. She saved me, and goddess knows I’ll do anything to save her.
There will never be enough days in eternity to love her the way she deserves to be loved.
“She won’t want you now, Aegis,”Vidaris’s voice chants in my mind, as clearly as if she were speaking to me now.“You’re tainted. How can you call yourself worthy of her after this?”
My head hangs down, and I rub my fists roughly against myeyes. Lu’s palms smooth circles over my heart as she stays draped over my shoulders, her chest pressed into my back. She stays behind me silently, her hand a steady and gentle sway over my chest.
“I should probably eat something,”I send into her mind, hoping that if I force down something, it’ll help ease some of the knots twisting in my stomach.
Her face swims into view as she slides around to my side. I shrink back, turning my head away from her too-bright eyes
“You ate when I got back,” she reminds me carefully.
My gaze swings back to her, and she tilts her head to the side, her gaze concerned. My brows pull together. I don’t remember eating—or even waking up when Lunaria got back.
“I think I know what’ll help,” Lu whispers, her voice like honey, breaking through the storm surrounding my thoughts. But what use is a canopy against a lightning storm? It’ll stop the rain, but it won’t stop the rolling thunder or streaks of heat from striking.
Lunaria slips off the bed, one of her hands trailing down my arm until her fingers intertwine with mine. She gives my hand a quick squeeze before releasing it.
Her mouth moves, but my ears are filled with a rushing river—each beautiful word of hers trapped behind the whir in my head. She gives me a sad smile and leans forward slowly, her lips pressing against my forehead.
I squeeze my eyes closed, basking in the feel of her lips against my skin.
The air between us chills as she leans away, and when I open my eyes, I find her slipping out of the room. My heart begins to pound. The white noise in my ears is replaced by a racingthump, thump, thump.
It’s too loud without her. My memory is filled with Vidaris’s pearly teeth as she laughs—all while she shows me visions of Lunaria dying over and over again.
Too loud, too quiet, tooeverything.
I don’t know how much time passes while she’s gone, only that she isn’t here and I’m barely hanging on.
When a gentle hand cups my cheek, my gaze flies up. I blink through the fog, my eyes greeted by Lunaria’s soft smile. She doesn’t say anything, just gives a light tug on my hand. My body follows her without question.
I can’t seem to focus on anything around me—my vision is blurred and sounds are muted.
As my feet trail behind her, it feels as if I’m watching myself from afar—my mind detached from my numb limbs. Everything is in a haze, but still, I follow Lunaria. I’d go anywhere she’d lead me.
Forty
Chrysoprase
Graylen’s movementsare slow and choppy, his feet staggering against the creaky wooden floorboards. There’s an emptiness in his eyes that I’ve seen in soldiers after battle—the kind of look that speaks of a world too cruel to be present in. His body is here, but my sweet and infuriating Graylen is so very far away.
My lips press together as a bitter tinge coats my tongue. I briefly remember after I tried to run away from the royal training camp, when the soldier sliced me open with his sword in an effort to stop me.
I was an empty shell while I began to heal physically, my mental state far more broken than my body. There was nothing that could pull me out of it, though Opal tried. The memory is a blurry haze, but I remember her helping me wash.
Opal sat with me on the edge of the creek, the two of us hiding behind our favorite shrubbery. She used torn clothdipped in freezing water to gingerly clean around the wound. In the days following, she helped me change the bandage, keeping it clean and dry.
I was silent the entire time, lost in the image of the soldier’s gleaming smile as he thrust his sword at me. Over and over again.
But she still did it, day after day.
It’s that memory that pushed me into action.
His words tug my thoughts back to when he asked for something to eat, seeming to forget he’d already eaten not long before. When I brought him our food, he didn’t say anything, just ate in silence and lay back down in bed fully clothed.
Then, when I told him to wait on the side of the bed a few moments ago, he didn’t move a muscle, not even when I came back into the room. Didn’t move even as I carried the buckets of steaming water past him several times until I had enough to fill the tub.
