Of Darkness and Crowns (20 page)

The alcohol is working, some. At least Bale can’t literally speak to me, though I can still sense her presence. It’s creating a barrier from being with Kal completely. I try my hardest to burst through it, grabbing her, pulling her body closer. Sinking my fingers into her flesh, attempting to connect. My mouth devours hers. Her gasps flutter in my chest, exciting me further, and I breathe through her. As if I’m inhaling her soul into me, replacing the darkness trying to pull me under with her.

But still, it’s not enough. Frustrating. Annoyance that I can’t get close enough, feel her and taste her and own her, intrudes into the passion. My hands roam widely, tearing at her clothes. Our kiss deepens, my lips crush hers.

I know something’s off, that she can sense the wrongness, when she breaks away. “It’s too much,” she pants, pulling air into her lungs. “Just…too much, Caben.”

“I know.” I grit my teeth against the overwhelming desire, and just try to
see
her. The fog in my brain is becoming worse. “I’m not right,” I admit. “The things I’m thinking—” I turn my head, shut my eyes “—it’s all very wrong.”

I feel her gentle touch on my cheek, and she turns my face back toward her. “It can’t be any more wrong than the thoughts swirling in my head.” She attempts a smile. But I can see the slightest tremble of fear in her lips. “Tell me,” she whispers.

Cupping the back of her neck, I angle her head back, so she can look into my eyes. Honesty. Such a simple concept. One that I believed in wholeheartedly before I became Bale’s bitch. It’s so much more difficult now.

But, hell. I give it a whirl. “I’m not sure if it’s me or Bale who desires you more.” I bite down on my lip hard enough to draw blood. And watch her jade eyes widen. The undisguised fear in them seeps past the haze and accelerates my already thumping heartbeat.

“Bale wants me dead, Caben. I’m some kind of threat to her. The way you kissed me just now?” She dips her head to maintain eye contact when I try to look away. “That didn’t feel like you wanted to hurt me.”

But oh, how she’s wrong. There’s a fine, fractured line between love and hate. Pain and pleasure. Until now, I’d have denied that the two could coexist simultaneously. Undoubtedly, it’s Bale’s influence feeding this one—but it still thrums, fire-hot and demanding.

It’s as if a residual imprint has been permanently marred on my soul. I want to reach inside and rip it out, banish anything that threatens the woman I love…but I can no more separate myself from it than I can find a way to crawl beneath Kal’s skin.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I finally tell her. “But I’m scared I might not be able to control it.”

She licks her lips, her eyes hesitantly seeking the truth in my expression—I’m sure one that registers pain—and cups my cheeks. “I trust you. Whatever it takes, let me help. Do you trust me?”

A pang deep within my chest sounds like a warning. I tamp it down farther. “Yes.”

Her hands slowly move from my face to my temples, where her touch—that can be lethal; the hands of a trained protector—is delicate. And she embraces me like
I’m
delicate. Breakable.

I realize what she’s doing. What she couldn’t do in the Cage. She’s not trying to heal me, or even attempting to banish Bale. She’s trying to prolong my sanity. If I didn’t believe the goddesses had already abandoned me, doomed me to hell, I’d pray that Kal’s healing touch could do just that.

The fire-hot warning swarming in my chest shoots to my head, splintering. Painful slivers of light slink through the cracks, and slowly, begin to consume me whole. Blinding. A scream rips from my throat. Her hands are off me.

Stumbling back, I blink hard, my vision impaired. Mental debris churns in my head, beating the walls of my brain with agonizing force. I fall to my knees. The ocean seeps into my skin, the salt grating.

Bale might not be present, but she’s far from gone. She won’t allow Kal to help me. The selfish bitch. Now, I don’t have a choice. I have to sate the need tearing through me. If I don’t, I’ll go completely, utterly mad. I just want a few moments of peace. Just one bleeding second of clarity. With Kal.

I climb to my feet and splash through the shore toward her. Grab her wrists and lock them together between us.

“No, Caben,” she pleads. And the whimper quivering her voice sends a thrill skittering over my raw skin. “This isn’t you. Fight it.”

A soft sigh falls from my lips. “I promised you, Kal. I told you that you’d be mine.” I snatch her close and press my mouth against her ear. “Remember—I keep my promises.”

♦
24
♦

Kaliope

I’
M BEING DRAGGED TOWARD
a glass house in the trees. It towers over the cove, threatening. Skeletal. And ridiculously, the first coherent thought to leave my mouth since Caben’s apparent mental determination isn’t about his state of mind at all.

“This is your hideout,” I say.

“Was,” he responds. “Now it’s ours.”

I wrench my hand free of his hold and stop. My legs ache, and even though I won’t fight him about going into this place, I want evidence.

He turns around to face me. “We lack time, love.”

“Why are you bringing me here? Won’t your Otherworlders be here soon?” I look past the house into the woods, searching for a sign that they’re already here. The battle probably ended hours ago.

Caben crosses his arms over his chest. “Surprisingly, the Otherworlders follow orders well. They’re to return to the Otherworld to await their goddess. There’s nothing more I need from them.”

“But Lake? Your mother?” A small swell of hope surfaces that this is where Bax was taken. “Bax knows this location, doesn’t he?” I want to hear Caben say he didn’t instruct Lake to kill my friend.

Caben shrugs. It’s such a normal, Caben thing to do—it makes my stomach clench.

“He’s not to hurt Bax. Don’t worry. Your mutant is safe. But no one is going to be a last minute hero. Lake will keep Bax and his family guarded until tomorrow. Then he’ll return to his home with the others. I trust your Nactue to keep my mother well-tended. What other choice do I have?” He looks out over the ocean before moving closer to me.

I restrain myself from reaching out to him. He’s volatile; I don’t know what action will set him off. But I still want to offer him some comfort where his mother is concerned. “She’s safe, Caben. I can assure you that. No matter what happens…the Nactue will protect her.” I omit that I don’t know for how long.

Once Bale is corporal and free to terrorize this realm, I don’t know if anyone will survive. I’m sure the dark goddess will exact revenge on anyone who threatened her ascension. The Nactue, Empress Iana, Bax, Caben’s mother…they’re all most likely at the top of her list.

“Will you come with me now?” Caben offers his hand.

Whiplash. It’s the only way I can explain; emotional whiplash. One second he’s asking me, the next he’s demanding. I try to set aside my upbringing. That inner voice insisting I correct him—like that first day which feels so long ago when I met the annoying, cocky prince of Perinya.

Instead, I accept his outstretched hand. Warm and comforting, despite the cool air cloaking us. Then he leads me toward his glass treehouse.

Like something out of a fairytale. A dark one.

The sanded wooden rungs are slippery with mist off the ocean as I climb. Caben is right below me, patiently following my slow advance. I’d be a terrible liar if I didn’t admit I’m thrilled as much as I’m afraid. It’s like we’re back in the Otherworld, alone and locked away—but without the imposing cell bars. Certain death remains; that’s the one, terrible sameness. Then, it was not knowing if we’d survive the battles against the contenders.

Now, it’s a loud, ticking countdown till Bale’s resurrection.

Pausing at the large hatch above my head, I wait until Caben climbs up behind me, his body pressing against my backside as he reaches for the latch. With a grunt, he flings the hatch open, and it lands with a hollow boom.

That sound reverberates through me with a subsequent, affecting silence. Trying to ignore the flooding emotions at having Caben so near, I enter his lair.

I shouldn’t have expected anything less than remarkable from Caben. He’s such a hedonist, this I knew. But there are also small, personal touches everywhere that give it life, make it something other than just breathtaking. Like the framed photo of Caben and his mother when he was a boy. It’s a handmade frame, probably from the same wood used to construct this very place.

As I roam the first level, my feet lead me toward the massive windows lining the whole area. My chest actually aches at the beauty of the ocean, the sunrise filling the timber and glass home with warm oranges and reds. I immediately think of the Goddess Monique, and her paintings and statues, all colors requisite of love.

It’s as if Caben somehow captured her essence here.

Maybe I should have prayed to Monique many times over, because I suddenly find myself completely at a loss. But this isn’t a date. Caben’s not bringing me to his home where we’ll talk for hours, make love near the fire pit, and fall asleep in each other’s arms. I’m not his lover.

I’m his prisoner.

And yes, the man I love is trapped somewhere inside this callous shell. I just don’t know if I’ll be able to reach him before it’s too late.

“Are you cold?”

Caben’s voice throws me, and I turn and stare at him. It’s such a simple question, yet implies his concern for me. I need to keep him in this frame of mind for as long as I can.

“I am.”

He removes his cloak and tosses it over the back of a large couch. I watch as he kneels beside the fire pit and places his hands over the kindling. My brow furrows, confusion pulling at my features, until I see the white spark between his palms.

I’ve felt his power before. Or rather, the power that Bale’s bestowed him through her… But I’ve been at the end of it. The pain. I flinch now at seeing it ignite the pit into a roaring fire.

“A lame trick,” he says. But it’s anything but.

The truth crashes over me, cold and alarming. Drinking away Bale’s voice doesn’t suppress any of her powers. They might even be growing stronger the nearer we get to the new moon. And Caben’s mental deterioration is definitely becoming worse.

That’s a lethal combination. I’m a fool for being in the same vicinity, in the same
country
as him. Suddenly, I think of my mother. How she stuck by my father for all those years; his hatred, rants, abuse. For the first time ever, I feel close to her. Kindred. More so, I can empathize with her.

I don’t want to think on that much longer, so I move to sit near the warmth of the flames. The sun has risen fully into the sky, and the glass treehouse shimmers with morning light. It feels wrong seeing it in reverse. Like if we’d all just went to sleep last night instead of battle, waking to this day would have been so altered.

There’s nothing that could’ve changed last night’s outcome, though. Not a million ways we could have done things differently. I doubt I’ll live long enough to regret them.

How many times can one person accept their gloomy fate?

I actually want to laugh. I’d accepted mine in the Cage. That should have been it. The finale. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do it again—and this time, knowing I have zero control over saving Caben.

At least before, I was resigned. Caben would go on, live, be the king of Perinya. My family and friends would live their lives, too. Now I have no consolation with which to bow out of this world.

I feel cheated.

“Heroes aren’t supposed to just fade out like this.” Caben’s words startle me from my morbid thoughts.

I look away from the fire to his face, the auburn glow bathing his features in a tranquil aura. When his words actually process, it’s as if he’s reading my mind. Maybe he can; who knows the full extent of his powers. I have nothing to hide.

Working up my courage, I scoot closer to him, beside his crossed legs aimed out at the pit. “Like there’s supposed to be…something. I don’t know. Like in the Cage. Everything crescendoed. I understand what you’re saying, Caben.” I reach for his hand, and he allows me to take it. “This is a tame ending compared to that climax. But maybe we weren’t meant to be the heroes of this story.”

He closes his fingers around my hand. “I’m too selfish to be anyone’s hero. Even yours, Kal.” His silver-blue eyes flick to mine. “There’s too many unseemly things I want to do to you.”

Through this dismal state, I get a glimpse of the real Caben. And a blush creeps over my cheeks. How stupid—but also, how human. I don’t want to spend these last moments
fearing
. I failed. Caben failed. Are we supposed to curl into ourselves and wither away? Right here?

Caben’s thumb skims the top of my hand, sending a tingle through me. “Such a man,” I say.

His lips twitch on the verge of a smile. Then he cocks his head and winks.

I think this is how the rest of today will be. Unlike our uncontrollable first attempt on the beach, where the overwhelming need to devour couldn’t be contained, this is slow. Tentative but easy. A simmer rather than an inferno.