Page 51 of Antiletum

Val’s eyes shift. The pure slick of his pupils eating up all that glorious, faceted black. “Don’t,” he practically growls, fighting something within himself and head doing a slow tilt to the side. “Don’t run.”

His suggestion has the opposite effect. I turn, and dash towards the door as fast as I can.

I haven’t made it far when an angry snarl calls at my back. Breaths saw through my lungs. Loud beats pulse in my head and it takes only a second for me to realize that the pounding isn’t only my blood raging against my eardrums, but my husband’s thunderous steps following behind me.

Pace kicked up, I storm the short set of stairs, pass by the breakfast nook—running and running and running for the—

Something slams into my back. I yelp as thick arms wrap around my waist before I can hit the floor, holding me hard against a hot, tight,dangerous body. Feet tangle in my skirts, kicking out at nothing while Val lifts me in the air.

I tear at his arms, ripping his skin with my nails, the scent of his blood wafting around my face absolutely haze inducing.

It’s too much.

My scream of rage morphs into more of a wail, tears flooding down my face. I can’t breathe, hyperventilation taking me over.

Val’s grip relaxes slightly, only enough to no longer crush my ribs and his hold to turn from something predatory to tender.

“I’ve got you,” he says. Laughably unthreatening.Soothing.

I’m bending over, my body aching for the floor. To curl into myself and try to hold what’s left together. If there is anything to salvage at all.

It would be easier to simply no longer exist.

“I’ve got you.” Val’s front curls against my back as I lean forward to pour out my anguish, never letting me crash, holding me together while I completely fall apart.

“Shh,” he shushes through my hair over and over. Saying things I can’t comprehend. Can’t rationalize in comparison to who I now know he is. His soothing words never stop. Coming on steadily with his mouth against my ear, my hair, my cheek.

It’s endlessly fucked, how comforting it is, and speaks volumes to just how broken I am. How my body melts into his, responds to his gentle urgings. How good he smells with his breath so close to my nose, its heat caressing my skin, and I think I could maybe stay here forever.

Val’s lips press against my face, tasting my tears and huffing his air across me, trying to ground me so I may be able to breathe again, despite him being the one to have stolen all my air.

13

Admittedly, it wasn’t my finest moment

Val

Killing Rainah was never part of the plan.

It was a stupid, rash, impulsive decision. Driven by betrayal.

Months later, a pleasant full body cringe rolls through me every time I recall the encounter. Choking the life from my beloved’s sister. My friend. A vital, dedicated member ofSuredeis.The one who was actively using her clairvoyance gifts to try to search out the finalPantheraHeartstone location.

Admittedly, it wasn’t my finest moment.

Sheer, debilitating terror overtook me when I exited my en suite, expecting to find an assassin ransacking my room. What I found was much, much worse. More than anything, I wanted to run to my wife. To pull the mirror from her hands and keep my shameful secret hidden from her. But try as I might, I couldn’t force myself to move. Frozen like one of the imposing statues of thedeosdotted throughout the city.

Her precious name finally flowed from my lips like a plea when I saw the hatred across my wife’s face, my heart caving in on itself. The shattering mirror brought us both fully back into reality.

Honestly, I should be commended for how calmly I’m able to speak to Delaney now, given that my pulse is racing hard enough to beat behind my fucking eyes. That my stomach is a tight knot that I can’t unwind, not even by cramming sweets in my face to keep me grounded—an awful anxious habit of mine. Similar to how I clutch this little gold totem in my pocket. Mallin would argue that my reaching for the dahlia-etched clasp is the far more unhealthy tic.

But what does he know?

Delaney retreats from me. Slow, deliberate steps. The cloud of terror around her thickens like honey. Difficult to ignore. I want to taste it. It cuts through my nerves like a scythe reaping cobwebs. Easily. A welcome distraction from the panic attack trying to gather in my chest.

Thank fuck.

Even after all I’ve lived through, I only learned what hyperventilation feels like the night I killed Rainah. I thought I was dying. Can’t say I’m a fan.