“Shh, you’ll wake the girls and Sven. Then we won’t be able to have more fun making more.”
“I’m pregnant,” I whispered into his kiss. Leaning my head back, I stared at the mark on his forehead. “And you’re not with me. Not really. This is what you created to escape her, isn’t it? You created a heaven with your ghosts. You can’t stay here. This isn’t your life. I’m waiting for you, Knox. I love you. Come with me.”
“This isn’t something I created, Aria. This is real. I am real.”
“Yes, you are real. Our daughters died, Knox. Sven died. You didn’t. I didn’t. I’m real, and I’m pregnant with your babies. I need you more than our ghosts do.” I leaned to his mouth, kissing him hard, putting every emotion I had into it, showing him how real I was. “You’re my haven, and my haven is missing from me. I’m in hell without you. Come back to me. Come back and be a father to our babies, who aren’t inside your head. We need you to protect us, too.”
“Then stay here with me. Nothing can hurt us here.”
“That’s because it’s not real. It’s your mind protecting you from the pain. It’s understandable after what you’ve endured, but this? This isn’t the library. Because right now, I’m lying in it beside you, but you’re not with me. You’re here, hiding from the agony you know is coming. Tell me about the nightmare.”
“I don’t want to talk about the nightmare. Fuck that nightmare. I wouldn’t do that, Aria. If you’re trying to tell me I did that? Then I don’t want to come back. I don’t deserve to come back.” The pain in his tone told me he knew it was real, but he didn’t want to believe it was.
“I didn’t die, Knox. I’m right here with you. You’re staying here because you don’t want to leave.”
“Lennox is gone. I can’t feel him or sense him within me. He’s here…somewhere, but I can’t find him.”
My eyes flicked to his forehead, and I chewed my lip. Evoking my magic, I leaned closer, kissing him as I brought my hands up, forcing my magic into the mark, which sent me tumbling out of his head, slamming me back into my body.
“Rude,” I muttered.
“Were you fucking him?” Esme asked, her eyes worried but intrigued. “Because it smells like you were.”
“There are runes on our foreheads. On the walls of the chamber that he was in. He’s with ghosts. Our daughters were there. Sven was too.” I sat up, finding a room filled with men who were all focused on me. “I think he created a realm inside his mind, but it’s only the size of the library.”
“Which would mean its endless,” Brander stated, his eyes raking over my body with concern. “You should rethink your strategy. Besides, a queen doesn’t leave her people when they’re in need of leadership.”
“Nice try there, Brander. But a queen’s job is to protect her king. She protects him, but she isn’t bound by the same rules. A queen without a true king, is nothing. So, I am going to that citadel in the morning, and I’m bringing Knox her fucking head for his throne. Because he’s going to want it when he wakes up. I suggest everyone get some sleep. Greer, I need you to find me every book on ancient runes. We have to find the one Hecate used to suppress Lennox and Ember. You and Lore can help Avyanna find it while we’re kicking Hecate’s ass.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Aria
Aria
I’d dressed for battle in sleek, black, breathable leather pants and a shirt. Greer had helped me into the lightweight cuirass. It was created from shimmering silver and crimson dragon scales, each one etched with the same detail of genuine scales. The pauldrons on the shoulder, neck and beneath my armpits were the color of freshly spilled ink, each carrying the outline of a raven in flight, its mouth open as if it roared the call to arms. The matching vambrace were the same ink-coloring of the pauldrons, yet there were veins of crimson and silver threaded through them, all extending upward toward the scales. My legs were left free of armor, but blades sat in sheaths upon my thighs.
“Wow,” Esme whistled as she stood behind me.
“I look like I’m playing dress up,” I returned, slowly moving my head to see the twin braids which created a crown atop my head.
“You look like you were born to wear that,” she argued. “Listen, if shit goes south today? I need to know you’ll come back from it, Aria. I don’t want you going in there, then coming back here someone else. Doing this won’t be as easy as you think it will be. You’re going in there knowing and intending to take innocent lives. There will be a cost to your soul.”
“I’m very aware of the cost to my soul. I’ve paid it already, or did you forget that?” I asked, my forehead creasing as I leaned closer to the glass, sliding my fingers through the black paint. Bringing it up to my face, I dragged it down in the center of one eyebrow, sliding it all the way to my forehead and then down to my jawline. Once I’d finished the right eye, I dragged the remaining paint over my lips and beneath the left eye to the ear. “We’re na?ve girls to think we could escape this war without spilling innocent blood. We can try to avoid it, but not at the cost of others. We’re not gods, and only gods choose who lives and dies. We just send them to the veil, and let them sort the souls out.”
“I just meant don’t let her turn you into something you cannot live with after this war is won. If we cannot live with what is left of us once we’ve triumphed, then Hecate still wins. There’s what we are willing to, and then what we wouldn't do, which I get. But I’m worried about how we will survive if we let her turn us into something as wicked, and cruel as she herself is.”
I caught her eye in the mirror, staring at the inky dark paint coloring her face. Slowly turning toward her, I nodded. Reaching back to dip my fingers into the ink, I brought them up as her face scrunched up.
“We’re trying to look terrifying, Esmeralda. You look like you’re about to walk out on stage for a high school musical.” Mirroring what I’d done with my face, I smiled as she held my eyes. “This world is trying to change us, and if we don’t change, then we never evolve. There’s no escaping this unless we learn to be better than she is. We must become the monsters this world needs, but without losing sight of who we were. I don’t intend to murder innocent lives, but I know I can’t choose them over the children here. Knox knew the cost, which is why he never argued when I called him a murderer, or unjustly blamed him for being an unfeeling, sadistic monster. He took no joy in the deaths he caused. I was accused of slaughtering those who hadn’t dipped their toes into the darkness.”