Page 49

When I do open my eyes, my breath catches at what I’ve created.

I’ve conjured red rose petals to scatter across the floor and the bath’s surface, perfuming the space. Alongside those petals, bright spheres of witchlight hover over the water and in the air above me. The glowing orbs remind me of fireflies dancing on a summer night, of so many stars on a clear evening. The warm, yellow glow they cast fills the space with a welcoming, cozy ambiance.

Petals and light, such easy magick. Such lovely magick.

It’s little more than child’s spellwork, but I still can’t help but be a little proud of myself. The child I was—needing so much validation and acceptance—crashes into the adult I’ve become. Need meets want, fear meets hope, and doubt meets belief. All those sharply conflicting emotions coming together to make this: a room filled with light and roses.

“What’s all this?” Eren’s deep voice rumbles from behind me.

Spinning to face him, my heart stutters and then races even faster than before when I see his expression.

Wonder, absolute wonder.

Eren’s eyes are wide and his lips are slightly parted as he takes in what my magick has made.

“Allie,” he says, voice hushed. “You did this?”

“I… yeah, I guess I did.”

Eren makes it to me in three quick strides. He doesn’t pause a moment before pulling me into a tight embrace, lifting me off my feet.

“This is wonderful.”

It is, isn’t it? Despite the lingering emotional upheaval and the strangely muddled traces of bitterness and joy on my tongue, the wonder isn’t lost on me. The wonder created by my magick.Mine.

Not even remotely able to respond over the lump in my throat, I can only nod where I’m held firmly against Eren’s chest.

“The entire room smells like your power,” he tells me, lips hot on the side of my neck. “It smells like petrichor. Like rain on a dry summer day. Rain on rose petals.”

I lean back and look into his eyes. “Really?”

“Really.” He presses a soft kiss into my mouth as he sets me back onto the floor.

The kiss starts soft and soothing, but it doesn’t say that way for long.

Desire mingles with all the other emotions I’m feeling, and it should be too much. I can’t make sense of it, can barely get a grip on what I’m feeling or sort through every painful, tender emotion tugging at my heart.

But this.This. This eclipses all the rest.

Eren pours his admiration and his awe into each press of his lips on mine. Even though some part of me knows better than to seek this kind of validation, it still does something to me. All of his approval rushes in to fill the hollow, aching parts of me that have just been brought back to agonizing, amazing life by the resurgence of my power.

I’m left feeling more settled in the wake of that approval, blooming into the hot press of his mouth and anchored by the feel of his sure, steady hands on my body. When we finally come up for air we’re both panting, and his crimson eyes are bright with need.

It would be so, so easy to give into the temptation he offers. His wings flare behind him, tail whipping impatiently in that way I’ve already come to understand means he’s feeling every bit as unsettled and wanting as I am.

I want it, too. I want him. I want to grab him and pull him into the bath or tumble into bed with him and do exactly as the Goddess commands. Join our bodies, our lives, our spirits—fuck each other into an oblivion that will erase the lingering traces of uncertainty.

Something—doubt, maybe, or the fear that no matter what small thread of power I’m now able to grasp isn’t anywhere near enough—makes me pause and pull back from Eren slightly.

“Has there been any noticeable change since I got here?” I ask him, already afraid of the answer. “Are things… getting better?”

I think of the court full of demons depending on him, onus, the full day of petitioners he saw all suffering and looking for some kind of relief. My stomach knots painfully when Eren doesn’t answer right away, but the truth is clear enough in the shadows under his eyes and the exhaustion in his posture.

“That bad?” I ask, my voice dropping to a whisper.

He pulls me back into his arms. “None of this is your doing.”

“I know. But I’m supposed to fix it.”