Page 47 of Incoronate
I woke to the sun slicing through a small gap in the curtains. Tiny dust particles drifted through the sliver, suspended and slow-moving as they caught the gold and turned it into something almost spellbinding. For a long, grateful heartbeat, I just lay there, watching them float, as though nothing in the world had tried to kill me yesterday.
My throat was dry and my body felt sluggish in that post-fever way, as though my bones were still deciding whether they wanted to be mine again, but the pain was different today. It wasn’t completely gone but it had subsided enough to feel the change, as if it had stepped back from the forefront and made room for the rest of me.
“Good morning, angel.”
I turned my head and found Dominic in the armchair beside my bed, his full attention locked on me in a way that would have unnerved me once upon a time. The kind that said he’d cataloged every breath I’d taken while I slept. Every flutter of my eyelids. Every slight change in my breathing. His hair was mussed, as though he’d been running his hands through it all night, and he held a crystal tumbler with his signature drink in his hand.
He looked like sin dressed up as deliverance. Dark and beautiful and wholly unrepentant about either.
“You look infinitely better already,” he murmured, his voice as smooth as the amber liquor in his glass.
I glanced down at myself, lifting my arms to inspect them. The black veins were almost entirely gone. There were just a couple of stragglers left, though the lines were barely visibleagainst my skin now. Relief flooded through me so fast it made me dizzy.
I was still here. Still alive. Still me.
Against all odds, the anchoring spell had worked. It had somehow managed to redistribute the overload of power my body was carrying—enough to stop the toxicity from ending me permanently.
My brief moment of relief lasted all of two seconds before my eyes snapped to Dominic, searching his exposed skin for any sign of the corruption. Any hint that it had transferred to him the way the sisters had warned it might, but there was nothing. At least nothing I could see from where I was lying. I looked at his forearms, where the sleeves of his black dress shirt had been rolled up, and noted they were smooth and unmarked before moving up to his chest and neck and finding the same clean skin. He looked exactly as he always did. Perfect and untouchable and completely unbothered by the fact that he’d just tethered his soul to mine for eternity.
“A-are you okay?” I stuttered, my voice coming out scratchy and weak. “I mean, the spell rot. Did it—”
“I’m perfectly fine, angel,” he said, taking a slow sip from his glass, his dark eyes pinned on me. “The tether appears to have evenly dispersed the excess magic between us. My guess is it diluted it enough that our bodies could handle the load without the same catastrophic effects it had on you.”
Hope surged, the warmth of it filling up my chest, but I couldn’t let myself fully feel it yet. “Are you absolutely sure? You’re not just saying that so I don’t panic, right? You wouldn’t lie to me about that, right? Right?”
He set his glass down on the side table and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. The movement brought him closer to me. Close enough to see the way the near-black of his irises gave way to amber at the center. Closeenough to feel his attention brushing against my skin like a physical touch.
“I’m sure, love. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” His voice dropped lower, more intimate. “Of course, if you would prefer to see for yourself, you’re more than welcome to conduct a thorough inspection. I assure you, I’ll be on my very best behavior. Or my worst. Whichever you prefer.”
A laugh bubbled out of me, weak and watery, but real. “Dominic.”
“What? I’m merely offering to cooperate fully with your investigation. For your peace of mind, of course.”
“Of course.” I let my head fall back against the pillow, a small smile tugging at my mouth despite everything. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, here you are, your soul stuck with mine for all eternity.” His lips tipped up in a smile that made my heart flutter. “A fate worse than death for most, I imagine. Lucky for you, I happen to think we’ll manage quite nicely.”
I bit back my laughter. “Is that so?”
“Mmm.” His gaze drifted down to my mouth and lingered there long enough to make the warmth in my chest curl into something more wicked. Something that had no business showing up while I was still recovering from death’s front porch. “In fact, I’m certain of it. Though if I’m being entirely honest with you, angel, there is one thing I’ll need from you going forward.”
I arched a weak brow at him, my pulse picking up in spite of itself. “And what’s that?”
“Your word.” The lightness in his voice was still there but his eyes told a different story. “That you’ll stop offering yourself up every time the world demands a sacrifice. No more trading pieces of yourself away. No more anointing yourselfas the next weapon on the board. No more loitering at death’s door without consulting me first.”
My smile faltered. “Dominic—”
“I am not finished.” His voice was more solemn then. “I did not survive watching you in that circle last night only to lose you to your next brilliant idea. So. Your word, angel. That is all I’m asking.”
But it was so much more than that. Because I knew what it meant for him to ask it. To admit out loud that he couldn’t bear the loss of me. That he needed me safe. And I knew what it would cost me to promise that to him and actually mean it. Because when push came to shove and the people I loved were on the line, I knew I wouldn’t hesitate. I wouldn’t stop to second guess myself. I’d walk my ass straight through the gates of Hell itself if it meant keeping any of them from going first.
“I'll try,” I whispered, offering him the only honest thing I could give him then. “I can’t promise I won’t do something stupid again, but I promise I’ll always try to come to you first.” I paused and smirked at him. “Well…if time permits, of course.”
His gaze caught on my mouth again before he sighed and met my eyes again. “I suppose that will have to suffice,” he said, the words dipping lower as if he were doing his best to mean them.
I was sure I saw the mask he usually wore slip just a little then, revealing the uncharacteristically tender, fearful, aching thing beneath it, and in that instant, I swore I couldfeelhim. That I could feel the tether between us just under the thin veil of awareness, thrumming gently like a second heartbeat in my chest.
The sensation didn’t feel invasive or even uncomfortable. If anything, it felt more like the opposite of that. Like he wasalready a part of me. Like his fire had slotted in against my ice and held there, familiar and inevitable. Like something that was always supposed to have been there and was only now finding its place, a sort of full-bodied kind of embrace that was coming from the inside.
