Neri could’ve so easily been inside me. I’m not certain how that works, if Neri would have known, but for me, there would’ve been no coming back from that. I would’ve felt his terrible presence staining my core for the rest of my days.
I whip around, my hands violent in their command. “There is more. I know it. Say it.”
“There’s no more. All is said that you need to know, and it ended just as I thought it might.” He holds up his hands in mock defense, but I see a hint of irritation in his eyes. “And rightfully so. I don’t blame you for your disgust. I had a feeling the truth might stop the wandering hands and kisses.”
“Then you should have told me before! And I do not have wandering hands!”
Nostrils flaring and tendons straining his neck, he pushes off the wall. “Oh yes. You do. And I tried!” A moment passes, and the tension in his body eases a fraction. “I told you I had darkness inside me. You wanted our darknesses to be friends, if I remember correctly. Very naked friends, by the way.”
He shrugs into his tunic, jerking the fabric down his tensing torso. I just stare at him, too bewildered to know what to do.
“Stop.” His voice splits the awkward silence. “Don’t look at me like I’m some freak of nature.”
“You are a freak of nature.”
His stare goes dark and cold. “No. I am Tiressia’s salvation and damnation, though I have never wanted to be either. I keep Neri bound so that he cannot wreak havoc on the Northlands or any other part of this empire. Three centuries ago, I stumbled out of the Shadow World with a shattered heart, fighting a godsdamn deity who used me to escape his eternal punishment and was ready to tear down the world.” His eyes gleam in the firelight. “And I won. A little thanks might be in order.”
His words sink in, and I’m left to wonder what would’ve happened if I’d let Alexus die on the green. Would Neri have died too? Or would he have been released?
“There will be more life after this,” he goes on. “You will see your sister, and you’ll figure out your future from there. If I’m not too late to save Colden, the kingdom and the vale will rebuild. If I am too late, I guess I’m going on a quest to save this empire, and you’ll take to the seas and end up with someone who will make you a very happy woman.” Sighing, he drags a hand through his hair and rests his hand on his hip. “We just have to get out of this godsforsaken construct first without doing things to one another that we’ll regret.”
We stand there, breathing hard, like we scaled the cliffs with our bare hands. Before I can reply, an infernal howl tears through the night. The horses sit up, their ears pricking, and Alexus and I look toward the tunnel.
He holds up a placating hand. “It’s all right. The wolves are just roaming, hunting for blood after the mess we left in the wood.”
Blood.
Slipping my hand beneath my arm, I tuck two fingers inside the hole in my bodice where the rocks dug into my skin. I flinch. The jagged wound stings at my touch, and it’s sticky wet.
I hold my bloody hand between Alexus and me and lift my arm to show him the cut.
His face blanches, and he immediately crosses the distance between us and inspects the injury, one hand firm on my waist. “You said you were all right.”
I wipe my fingers on my trousers and pull away from him. “I thought I was.”
Another unearthly howl crawls into the cave, followed by another and another, like the animals are communicating a warning across the ravine.
“I told you before. The wolves won’t hurt us. I have the God of the White Wolf inside me, for fuck’s sake.” He grabs the gambeson, throwing it on. “I’m going to have a look around and gather more brush. You should heal that wound and consult the waters so we can decide what to do from here. You know who to look for.”
He moves toward the passageway that leads to the mouth of the cave, but he hesitates. After a moment, he turns and backtracks, coming straight for me.
When he reaches me, he presses me against the cave wall and kisses me with as much fervor as ever before, regardless of his words about futures and regrets.
I should push him away. This will never end well. But I can’t. One touch of his tongue to mine, and nothing else matters but us.
He pulls back and runs his thumb over my lips. “Raina Bloodgood, your mouth will be my ruin.” Tenderly, he kisses my forehead, then turns to leave. Before he steps into the pool of bloody darkness spilling from the cavern’s entrance, he turns a look over his shoulder and holds up a finger. “I’ll be back shortly. Stay. Here.” He tilts that dark head. “And by all the gods, listen to me this time.”
The second he vanishes, I press my fingers to my mouth, wishing I could trap the tingling feeling left behind by every single one of his kisses.
I’m in So. Much. Trouble.
For a while, I sit by the fire, all of this new information simmering and stewing in my mind. Outside the complications with Alexus, the Prince of the East means to conquer the City of Ruin and raise Thamaos. I didn’t live when the gods ruled, and I’ve always been thankful for that. I don’t want to live in a world where Thamaos reigns, which means I have to stop that from happening.
I take up my mother’s dish. Alexus and I haven’t been apart in days, and in his absence, I’m thankful for the distraction of scrying. But before I can begin, my eye catches on Alexus’s sword, leaned against the cave wall.
I should take it to him.
No. I will stay here. He’ll be back soon; I know he will. He’s unfailing and unceasing and a host of other words I’ve painted him with. And, he has the God Knife.
I grab the Eastlander blade and puncture the end of my fingertip. A shiny bead of blood forms and waits to fall as my mind races over my options. I could check on Helena or look for Finn like I’d wanted to before things went sideways, but Alexus is right. I know who I have to look for.
With a turn of my hand, my blood splashes into the water.
“Nahmthalahsh. Show me the Prince of the East.”
This time, there are no shadows or smoke or mist, just a moving image unfolding on the water’s violet surface.
The prince rides on horseback, a red mantle billowing at his back. About thirty warriors and a flock of crows follow. They’re in the wood, but not inside this construct. At least it doesn’t look like they’re inside this construct. They ride hard—on a road, not a path. The trees are lightly covered in white, their autumn leaves and needled branches cradling an early snow. Flurries blow softly in the wind, and the last rays of a setting sun slice through the forest’s canopy, the light warm and wavering.
In the near distance, behind a glimmering veil of protection, sits a castle, a dark monolith rising above the evergreens, protruding from the land like one of the mountains to its east and west.
My pulse thunders.
The Prince of the East is about to take Winterhold.
I don’t have time to consider what to do. The sound of footsteps and heavy breathing fills the passageway that leads outside.