He slid from her back, practically waddled due to his smashed and bruised crotch as he tried to regain some semblance of dignity. Some bloody scrap of it. But none remained.
He had barely reached the water’s shore when he wrenched down his mask and heaved. His stomach lurched and emptied. Oh, it was bad, and the vomit wouldnotstop coming. The bile burned his throat and his eyes were a red, watery mess but it was more his wounded pride that hurt. Vesper swiped the back of his hand against his mouth, and only when his stomach was completely empty did he spit into the sea and tug his mask on.
Thorrin landed about twenty paces away and leapt from his mount. After he strolled to Vesper, he patted him assuredly on the back. As he did so, his dragon waited in perfect stillness. It only made Vesper really fucking bitter.
“That was … something,” Thorrin finally said.
Vesper wanted to bury his face in the sand, join the crabs, and disappear. Unlike Thorrin’s dragon, Kaida paced, while she gave Vesper’s side the occasional nudge, but he could feel her concern and how it resonated in their mark. Nestled in the center of his chest, it throbbed like a pulsing wound.
With a sigh, Vesper grasped Kaida’s snout and brought her bratty face to his. “I know you didn’t mean to, but you’reneverdoing that again.Ever.”
A sad disgruntled whine weaselled from Kaida.
Vesper released the dragon’s face and turned to Kyrith who, shockingly, didn’t survey him in a mocking way. She actually appearedconcerned, and that revelation sent his mind into a whirl of confusion.
Thorrin stroked his stubbled beard with a single finger. “The nature ofShadowheartsis unpredictable. While Vahla is completely at my will, obviously your mount has a mind of her own.” Thorrin gestured to his dragon resting in the grass that had laid down with a mere wave of his finger. And Vesper knew that feeling well—to summon the undead and bend them to his will. HisShadowheartwas a whole other beast.
Frankly, he was at a fucking loss.
And so. Bloody.Humiliated.
The dragon nudged his side again, her eyes wide. Apologetic.
Vesper sighed and whispered, “If I forgive you, will you fucking behave?”
The “yes”into his mind seemed genuine this time.
“I’m not sure how to help. Seems you’re stuck with Kyrith,” Thorrin said.
Vesper hissed a curse. “Come on. Don’t leave me alone with her.”
He clapped Vesper on the back once more, muttered a quick apology which Vesper didn’t believe for a second, and strolled back to his mount.
“Looks like I have my work cut out for me,” Kyrith said. She crossed the distance and bent to study Kaida. The dragon peered back at her with curiosity and a flare of fiery intensity. “We need to get you two bonded. The more time you spend with her, the easier it is. All you need is practice. And time.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Unfortunately, I don’thavetime.”
“Then you had better figure out how to communicate with her. And quickly. The bloodlace is spreading, and the longer you wait, the faster it’ll converge on us all.” Then she walked away and left him standing there like a moron, with his heart in his hands and emotion clogging his throat.
He knew he could do this, but failure was a bitch. Also, disappointing Kyrith felt worse, somehow. It made no sense, but maybe it was because she already despised him, and for whatever reason, he didn’t want her to.
Vesper studied Kaida as his mind raced. He had no idea how to fix this. Maybe hisShadowheart’sremorse would change something, but he couldn’t be sure. One thought stood at the forefront of his mind. One sure thing.
His, his family’s, and all his friend’s futures depended on it.
CHAPTER FORTY
EMMERY
None of them spoke of the terrors they’d endured in the labyrinth, and Emmery would rather gargle glass than tell Destonne about the vision or the kiss that still haunted her dreams. Though as she slept in his arms, huddled into him for warmth and comfort, her blood hummed with need. Because she found herself, not as a spectator, but on that bed with him, his tongue between her legs, hands gripping her hips, mouth on her body, moving inside her, thrusting and filling her so deliciously—
None of it was real. And she needed to get a damn grip on herself.
Emmery would leap from these nightmares panting and flushed, but not in the way Destonne thought, and when he’d offer his crystal, she always declined. Even with its magic, he whimpered in his sleep and clutched her like everything he’d ever loved was ripped away each time he closed his eyes.
At least after consuming theveramint, his fever hadn’t returned, though his breath wheezed as they tread the narrow path, likely from the incessant press of the labyrinth walls. Emmery hadn’t brought up the fever or his fears, though Destonne’s eyes often slid to her like she’d swept aside a curtain and glimpsed all his ugly bits, weaknesses, and evident regret. But hadn’t she revealed herself to him, too? Hadn’t he seen those stained, jagged bits of her soul? Maybe they stood on equal ground now.
Emmery turned her attention to Brennen to find him adrift in the same brooding silence since the night he lost himself. Nothing could save him from it, not her assurance that what happened didn’t change anything, nor Destonne’s hushed words. Such self-loathing lived in Brennen’s eyes, she feared it would linger infinitely.