Because this insidious decay completely threw his plans off course. And a short distance away, the city of Morana lay on the horizon.
Or, at least, what remained of it.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EMMERY
“You’re regressing,” the King said. On the opposite end of the pond he stood with his feet bare, trousers rolled to his knees, and arms crossed over his broad chest. And like he had somewhere to be, Destonne impatiently tapped a finger on his arm.
Emmery glared across the water at him, specifically the irritating rhythm of that digit. Her chest deflated with a sigh and she tilted her head back to glance at the slivered sky between the woven trees. It was beautifully sunny, the air crisp but warmed by golden sunlight on a late winter day. The teasings of springhung in the air, but she wished the weather was cloudy and stormy and as downright miserable as she was.
Nestled above on a tree branch, Aera watched with her fangs hanging playfully over her lips. At the fox’s small yip, Emmery replied, “If you want to come down and show me how it’s done, by all means. Otherwise, be quiet.”
Aera growled and flapped her onyx wings with sass.
“It’s been a week,” Destonne pressed. “You haven’t gone beyond your waist. We’re no closer to completing this pactum. You want your memories, don’t you? To find your Shade?”
“Y-you’re rushing me,” she stuttered, not sure what else to say.
She knew he was right. Maybe it was because she’d almost drowned last time she’d swam but every fibre of her being screamed to stop when all she wanted was to complete the pactum. She wanted it so damn badly her soul stretched from her body each time she entered the pond, but she just … couldn’t get in the water. And she loathed herself for this unending weakness.
Or maybe the unending nightmares kept her too exhausted to care.
Destonne had dragged her out of bed that day well past noon. The wine had helped her find sleep, but also weighed her down so heavily she nearly slept the entire day. When she’d hauled the covers over her head and ordered him to leap out the window, he’d grabbed her ankles and yanked her out.
Between her pounding head and the acidic taste on her tongue, she didn’t need this. His resentment for her slow progress and impatience to get his magic back showed through his every drawn out word and slanted glance.
Hands behind his back, he paced the edge of the pond. When he sank to the ground and slung his legs over the side, the corners of his mouth twitched. And that damn twinkle in his eyes spiked uneasiness through her.
He was up to something. He wasalwaysup to something.
“I think you only need the right motivation,” he drawled.
Emmery narrowed her eyes. “Look, I already know…”
Her words died as he produced a book from behind his back. But not just any book. It was the one she’d tucked under her pillow. Her secret shame. The one she’d dogeared as she stumbled on certain passages.
Good gods. This couldnotbe happening.
“I found this fascinating book in your room.” He flipped through the pages and snickered to himself. “Where did you get this? It’s quite improper.”
She nonchalantly crossed her arms, though her blazing cheeks betrayed her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never seen that in my life.”
He licked his finger and flicked to the next page. The glimmer in his eyes grew as he peered at her over the novel. “You’re a terrible liar. I know I’ve told you as much, but it never ceases to amaze me.”
“It’s from your library,” she spat. “It’syourbook.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure of enjoying it. Clearly, I’ve missed out.” He clucked his tongue and continued, “Ah, this page you marked is particularly”—he savoured the word—“suggestive. I wonder why you might have noted it.”
His bottomless gaze dared her to admit something she refused to voice, but he could taunt and tease all he liked, she wouldn’t break.
Their game was on. It was always on.
Destonne waded far enough from the shore he could reach the bottom, but she’d have to tread water. His saturated shirt clung to his chest.
“Give it back.” The words spewed from her in one hot breath.
Pure unadulterated rage fueled her steps as Emmery trudged from the water back to the shore. When she got hold of thatbook, she’d bludgeon him with it. She’d break his damn pretty face with the spine.