Page 230 of Nightshade

As if I’d slapped him with a realization he hadn’t considered, he flinched.

“So many nights, I have dreamed of that look on your face, just before the flames consumed you.” I hated that my eyes stung with tears, that I risked breaking into emotion when the anger and frustration sizzled inside of me. “I would wake up screaming, searching for you in the dark. Searching for the reassurance that it was nothing but a nightmare. And every night for months, I suffered the incapacitating reality that you really were gone.” Even as I stared back at him, standing in the middle of my room, I could feel that same anxiety wash over me, the fear that had become as much a part of my life as breathing. “Every day, I relived that moment on the cliff. Every day, I felt the heat of those flames on my skin, and the stomach-churning scent of your burning flesh in the air.” I broke. I finally broke into tears, and no matter how quickly I wiped them away, more fell. “So, don’t you ask me why! I’d have damned my soul a thousand times, if it meant your return!”

Months of misery tore from my chest on a sob, and as my knees turned weak with the pain, he reached out and lifted me into his arms. For the first time in months, I felt weightless. The warmth and strength I’d mourned for far too long somehow seeped beneath my skin. Like stepping out into the sunlight again after hours and days, months of absolute darkness. I tightened my grip around him, and the trembles in my body from before turned into full blown shivering. Not from cold, but fear. The stifling fear that he could slip from my grasp at any second had me clutching to him like a child.

There was a time, not long ago, when I questioned what I was capable of sacrificing for someone. What I’d be willing to give in exchange for a single moment. The answer was, aside from the life that I carried within me, everything.

All the years of desperately trying to comprehend my father’s obsession, his pain, his suffering, over my mother’s death, culminated into complete understanding. It took Jericho’s death, watching his life fade before my eyes, to realize just how much I loved him. And how absolutely devastating and vulnerable the heart could be.

“I had no other choice.” I hardened my jaw, stubborn and unmoved in my decision. It was my soul to damn, after all. Not his. “I gave up my soul, you gave up your wings and died. I’d say we’re even.”

Finger hooked beneath my chin, he lifted my face to his, and my scowl dissolved as I stared into a fierce winter blue eye. “I never wanted to leave you alone, Farryn. Giving up my wings was the only way I could get to you.”

“I know why you did it. But I refused to accept that you were gone. I told myself it’d get easier over time, but the days just got darker and darker. Until I couldn’t see the light anymore. I’ve been living in a starless galaxy, drifting through the pitch black cold, in hopes of finding life again. So, don’t be mad at me. Please.” I reached up to touch his face, but hesitated.

He swiped up my hand and set my palm to his cheek, and his eye fluttered shut for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed your touch.” Lowering my hand to his lips, he kissed my palm. “There is no hell worse than being apart from you.”

He lowered his hand to my belly, resting his palm against the still-flat surface that housed his child. As if sensing his presence, the baby kicked, and Jericho smiled, the sight of it setting my whole world aflame.

“The baby knows you, somehow,” I said, smiling. “I didn’t think I’d be feeling movement for a couple more months, but I feel everything. Particularly when I think or speak of you.”

Lowering to his knees before me, he pressed his face to my nightgown and kissed my belly. “Hey there, little one. It seems you’ve grown quite a bit over the last few months. I wish you could see how beautiful your mother looks right now. How utterly breathtaking she is.” He lifted his gaze to mine, before turning his attention back to my belly. “Hear my voice. Remember it. For when we meet, I want you to know it’s your father who looks upon you in awe.” He pressed his lips to my belly, pulling me into his body.

The ache in my chest throbbed, as tears gathered in my eyes. Was it possible to feel too much love? To die from the pressure of a chest so full, so completely whole? As if my heart had been stitched back together with thicker threads, I could feel it beating inside of me again. More powerful than before.

Jericho pushed to his feet, scooped me up into his arms, and carried me to the bed, where he laid me down against the pillows. With a gentle hand, he gripped my chin and kissed me with the kind of white-hot passion that turned my insides soft and weak.

He climbed onto the bed behind me and pulled me into his body. For a moment, the world felt whole again, even if neither of us would ever truly be whole. For now, the fissures in my heart had sealed together, and the pain softened. Yet, in spite of my contented bliss, a somber undercurrent remained. The reminder of how much we’d lost, how much we’d changed in such a short time. How easily life could be taken. Extinguished.

Every moment with him was a gift. Every second that didn’t end on a harrowing scream and an empty room was a blessing that I would never take for granted again. I curled into him, breathing in the scent of his skin, as I listened to the steady and calming beat of his heart. A sound I’d missed.

“They’ll hunt you here.” In feather-light traces, he drew his fingers up my spine. “The Sentinels. Once you become cambion, they’ll have no reason to let you live. They’ll come for me, as well.”

“That’s what Drystan meant. When he said this wasn’t over.”

“Yes. I’ve mocked them by coming back from Ex Nihilo.” Still caressing my back, his brows furrowed in thought. “They’ll not let this slide. I’ll find a way, though. A loophole to redeem your soul.”

“How?”

“By finding the demon who owns it when you turn.”

“Demon who owns it? Like … like a slaveowner?”

“Yes. And depending on the demon, it could be worse than hell itself. Between him and the Sentinels, that’s a whole lot of fuckery to deal with.”

“After what we’ve been through in the last few months, I am no longer afraid.”

With a weary smile, he cupped my cheek. “My dangerous little Tu’Nazhja.” The smile on his face faded to a sobering expression. “While the Pentacrux was no small threat, I’m afraid they pale in comparison to the Sentinels.”

“I don’t regret what I did, Jericho. I will never regret my love for you.” I ran my thumb across his bottom lip, watching him kiss it. “Drystan said one of them was out for you. It’s why they took me. To hand me over to them and hurt you.”

“They’ll never have you, as long as I breathe. Should they come, every one of them will die.”

“Without your wings?”

“Much of my power remains. I can still feel the current running through me. It is weak, but it will grow stronger as I heal.”

“I’ll not lose you again. Not to them, or anyone.” Pushing up onto my elbow, I stared down at him. “Let’s go back. To Nightshade. We’ll find my father. According to Drystan, he translated the Omni. He can restore your wings.”