I clamped my jaw shut as I slammed my palm against the door, searching for anger. For fury. But all I found was grief. Hurt. Disappointment. In him. In me.
I shouldn’t have made that deal with him. It was never pleasure for the sake of pleasure. I’d been lying to myself then. I could see that now. I wouldn’t have been so torn up over what my betrayal had done to him if it was only about that. I wouldn’t have wanted him and only him.
And for him to demand that I seek pleasure from no one else? Howdarehe?
Hands shaking, chest aching, I found the handle and yanked it open. I staggered into the dimly lit cavern of a chamber,closing the door behind me. I backed up, shoving my hands over my face as the pool trickled softly behind me. My fingers were wet, and I…I shouldn’t have allowed this.
“Oh, gods,” I whispered hoarsely, trembling.
I shouldn’t have let myself feel anything. I should’ve known better. I had been trained better than this. I was smart. Fierce. Empty. Cunning—
The image of Veses curled around Nyktos assaulted me, and I saw her moving against him. Feeding from him. And I remembered what his bite did to me. I couldn’t forget how shocking that pleasure had been. Had she made her bite hurt like Taric had with me? Or did she give him the same kind of pleasure Nyktos gave me? I saw his white-knuckled grip on the arm of the chair. She had his blood in her. Did she have anything else inside her? With her gown, I couldn’t—
Gagging, I spun around and bent, clasping my knees as the crack in my chest shook and shook. I straightened suddenly, staring straight ahead but seeing nothing of the pool’s dark beauty. His pool.
He’d told me there had been no one before me. And his supposed lack of experience? How I believed him to be a fast learner? I closed my eyes, but it didn’t stop me from seeing Veses again, so comfortable with touching him. I once more saw her in his lap, and I flinched.
I should’vefuckingknown.
Nyktos couldn’t love. Maybe he could care, but whatever stopped someone from doing that had to come from the same place that love did. The same place attachments were held. Bonds that ran deeper than blood. I should’ve expected there would be no such loyalty to me.
I laughed, the sound shocking and strange. My eyes peeled open as I grew hot. Reaching for the clasp on my cloak, I tore it free, letting it float to the ground, where it trembled. I wouldn’t have given a damn if he’d slept with half the mortal realm and Iliseeum before me. But he had lied, and none of my lies made his sting any less. Because what I saw wastoday. Notbefore. He had her in his office, in his lap, and she had been feeding from him, doing the gods only knew what else. After me.
After he’d told me how brave and strong I was. How worthy I was. After he’d told me I had never been a ghost tohim. After I’d felt safe with him. Slowly, I turned to the stone table and…I couldseeus there.
The anger finally came, pouring into me, filling my veins, and seeping through my bones. Rage flooded the crack in my chest, swallowing the vibrating embers, and what came rushing back felt as rotten and decayed as the nymphs. Fire swept through me, seizing my lungs as I stared at the stone table. Safe. I’d felt safe here with him.Safeenough to let myselfwant more. To feel. To live. To hope. Pressure built and built. Air charged around me and then stilled. The water stopped whispering. I trembled as I took a step forward, my mouth opening. The sound that came from me hurt my ears, and with it came a tidal wave of pain and fury and power—ancient, infinite power.Unleashed.
The stone table shattered into ashes.
Faint, flickering light and shadows danced against the now-bare wall. I looked down at my hands—at the widespread fingers lit fromwithin. Silvery light pressed against the sleeves of my blouse as I shook, as dust drifted down, falling onto my wet cheeks. My blood and my lungs continued to burn. I kept shaking—no, it wasn’t me shaking. It was the walls and the high, sweeping ceiling.
Heart tripping, I turned to the pool. The water tossed and tumbled violently but made no sound. Dust fell in thicker sheets like snow. Panic blossomed as the cloak appeared to vibrate along the floor. Pain lit up my chest. Real pain. I wasn’t breathing. I was holding my breath.
I forced my mouth open to inhale, but my throat felt bumpy and scaled now. Only thin wisps of air got through as I desperately went through Holland’s technique, struggling to control myself.
A fissure cracked along the wall, startling me. Another formed in the floor, sounding like thunder.
Oh, gods. I was doing this.
I needed to breathe, but I needed to calm first. I frantically searched for the veil in my mind as I sank to my hands and knees. In the distant part of my brain, I knew I was breathing too fast. That was the problem, but I couldn’t find the emptiness, the blank canvas I hated so much. I couldn’t find myself in the calm because I wasn’t sure I would even recognize myself if I did.That I would even know who or what I was.
A series of shivers ran up my neck and along the back of my skull. My fingers curled against the shadowstone floor as thin cracks spread out beneath me like a fine spiderweb. The embers in my chest vibrated as the fractures in the floor deepened. The corners of my eyes turned white. Stars began bursting all across my vision.
Something…something was inside the cracks in the floor, growing and spreading—
Roots snaked out of the split stone and soil, unfurling over my hands like vines, wrapping my wrists, arms. My stomach seized. What…what was happening?
I could see the ashy roots, but I couldn’t feel their weight against my skin. I couldn’t feel my legs or my face. Oh, gods, was this it? Was I dying now, and the ground was rising up to claim my corpse? It felt like that—felt like the realm was disappearing beneath me, and I could no longer feel myself. I was detached. Floating. Falling away—
Arms swept around mine, hauling my back against a chest, breaking the roots on my arms. They shattered into ash upon hitting the ground.Sera. I heard my name. I heard it spoken over and over until it broke through.
“Sera,” Nyktos shouted, hauling us backward as roots reached out from new cracks beneath me, falling over my legs—over Nyktos’s. He cursed, letting go of me long enough to grab one of the roots, snapping it off. “You need to slow your breathing. Listen to me,” he said, his voice softening. “Put your tongue behind your upper front teeth.”
The order caught me so off guard that I did as he ordered.
“Keep your tongue there and your mouth closed.” He leaned back, keeping me close as he straightened my posture even as the roots crawled up our bodies, crossing my chest. I jerked, whimpering as the vines encircled our waists. He grabbed at the roots again, wrenching them away. “Ignore them. Close your eyes and listen to me. Focus only on me. I want you to exhale to the count of four. Don’t breathe in. Just exhale. One. Two. Three. Four. Now inhale for the same count.” His hand went to the side of my neck and his thumb moved in short swipes against my pulse, to his counting. “Now breathe out for the same count. Don’t stop.”
I followed his instructions, not too different from what Holland had taught me. I breathed in for four counts and then exhaled for the same length. Nyktos quietly repeated the instructions, his chest rising and falling against my back in time with mine. Inhale. Exhale. Rise. Fall. Over and over as the roots wound their way around us, slapping over the hand at my neck, our shoulders—