Page 29 of Antiletum (The Nocturne #1)

Admittedly, it wasn’t my finest moment

Val

K illing 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 of Suredeis.

The one who was actively using her clairvoyance gifts to try to search out the final Panthera Heartstone 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 the deos dotted 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.

“You knew,” Delaney accuses. Fairly, might I add. “You knew what I was—before our wedding.” Of course I knew she was a necromancer. The only other one in the world that’s been found. Always meant for me. “Your brother saw me, scented my necromancy, when I was fifteen. You were after me all along.”

“Yes,” I say simply.

Desire to say more, to shed light on everything that has led us here is overwhelming. To make her understand. But my words are jumbled in a glass jar, being shaken in my mind. Unattainable.

I need Delaney to be calm right now. To stay here and let me explain. Not let her fear win. To move slowly so the instincts within me may avoid being triggered and we can speak rationally. It’s bad enough that I’m already following her slow retreat. Drawn like a magnet .

I groan inwardly at the shift in my wife’s heartbeat. In tune with what’s about to happen. Fear, the promise of the hunt, is rapidly blotting out everything else around me, my senses focusing on the sounds of Delaney’s movements, mapping out her escape plan before she’s even formed it.

“Don’t,” I warn, my head cocking involuntarily to the side. Our pupils blow wide, at the exact same time, for entirely different reasons.

Fuck.

“Don’t run.”

Words are barely past my grinding teeth before she’s running.

Even a brisk walk would be fine. I could ignore it, deny myself. But a full blown sprint in terror…

Formerly pristine teeth are probably broken from how tightly I’m clenching my jaw. Fingernails find and dig into a marble top table, trying to root myself.

Trembles climb down my arms.

I’m not going to chase her. I’m not going to chase her. I am not —

I’m going to do it. I have to.

Instincts are far too stout, too primal. Not when I could so easily make just a few short strides and have her in my clutches. Press her into me. Demand that she stay. That she listen .

An animal growl announces defeat to my internal battle, fighting my core. Impressive speed follows my wife, deciding she’s not allowed to get away. Not from me.

Not ever.

Fuck. This is far too exhilarating. Could have been a lot of fun, too, under different circumstances. Excitement sends a shot of shame through me. Delaney is currently terrified of me and scaring her is the last thing I want to do .

I would never hurt her. I want to take care of her. To make her feel protected. That intention is the only reason I murdered Rainah. My hands were completely tied.

But such is the life of a leader, having to make the hard decisions.

In a mouthwatering moment of victory, I’m behind Delaney, arms wrapped around her middle and pinning her small body against mine. I think I could fit her inside of myself. Tuck her away underneath my skin. Keep her close to me forever.

Swept from the floor, Delaney’s legs kick in the air. For a brief moment, she screeches. Caught. Angry. Fighting with all her might.

Nails slice into my arms, but I’m wholly undeterred.

It’s fucking glorious. I think I might have moaned into her neck.

Maybe she’ll bend forward and bite me. If anything, the way my precious wife thrashes in my arms encourages my need to hug her further.

Nestle my nose lovingly into her neck. Suck in her scent a bit.

She truly is divine.

But then, Delaney goes limp, all of her fire giving out. There and gone in a single, roaring flare. Blazing too strong, hot, and fast, depleting all its fuel.

Thrill melts away, instantly doused by the sound of my wife’s crying. Panicked and all consuming. As if she’s just learned all over again that her sister is no more. The vibrations of it rattle my bones. Her reaction—this is the only thing I regret.

“I’ve got you,” I tell her over and over. Trying to make her understand that I’m here. For her. But she doesn’t seem to hear me.

It’s okay. I can make it okay. I just have to tell her what happened. And what I have planned.

“Shh.” I comfort her, the way I wish I had been able to when Delaney learned of Rainah’s passing. Holding her desperately against my body. “I’m here. I have you. ”

Delaney’s sweet smelling hair clings to my lips. I savor it. The warmth of her body snuggling into mine. Let it become a piece of myself so I may remember what she feels like when she’s not by my side.

Whispers lull into Delaney’s ear. I tell her all the things I wish I had since we wed. That she’s beautiful. Mine . That she can rest, and I will hold her up for the rest of our days. That nothing could ever tear us apart now.

My bride. My perfect wife.

“This doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” I rationalize over her cries, speaking as gently as I can manage. “We don’t have to pretend anymore.”

Pretty sure she doesn’t even hear me as she’s now attempting to let herself melt into the floor, to cease to exist. But she won’t get away so easily.

For several long minutes, she cries, bleeding her grief out in long, wracking sobs.

“I know.” Her skin is sticky and salty-sweet against my mouth. My tongue traces up her cheek, licking away her tears. I kiss her face after ingesting her despair.

What use is there trying to hold back now?

This is freedom in and of itself, no longer trying to keep up pretense. I steal another press of lips against her cheek. More insistent. And she lets me. Leans into me for the sweetest of moments, the hopeful tree in my chest shivering with life.

Good. This is good. As soon as Delaney can catch her breath, I can explain. I can make her understand it was the only way. And that I will fix it. We will fix it. She just has to let me in.

Even as Delaney folds into what I offer, my affections bring her words back. Defiant and angry through thick hiccups. “Let me go! ”

How does she still not understand? How does she not see what this is?

With a disbelieving head shake, I say, “There is no world, no lifetime in which I would ever let you go.”

My nose nuzzles into her flesh. Warm. Soft. She smells like flowers and spring and grey clouds of melancholy that I want to devour. Make them disappear.

My chin tucks over Delaney’s head for emphasis, cradling her like a glass treasure that someone is trying to take away. Hoarding it tight in my clutches but careful it doesn’t break.

“We belong to each other, and we always have. How could we ever be meant for anyone else? Look at what we have already accomplished.” My words are rushed, breathless and tripping over each other.

She squirms, trying to pull her arms free to elbow me, to punch me, to get away or cause harm in whatever way she can.

“There’s no sense fighting it, ocellus ,” I croon, kissing her temple and tenderly pinning her arms across herself. If I could just radiate my reasoning from my own soul, settle it into hers.

“You’re insane if you think I’ll ever stay with you!”

“Being in love is its own form of insanity. And it is a madness I will choose until we rot in the ground—together.”

A hand snakes between Delaney’s subdued arms and her chest, her heart jack-rabbiting beneath my palm. If only I could close my fist around it. Hold it against myself.

“You feel it—you feel it right here. We can’t get away from each other.

Not really.” I clasp our left hands together, binding vinculum clinking in the most beautiful, silvery tune.

“From the moment we placed these rings on each other’s fingers, distance doesn’t exist for us.

Not since we claimed each other as husband and wife.

When we ingested each other’s blood, sweat, tears, and cum.

When I fucked you on the Heartstone and made you mine. ”

She makes another escape attempt, probably thanks to my increasing intensity, and this time I let her go. Delaney sways on unsteady feet. I cuff her elbow, holding her upright.

My gaze turns desperate and pleading. “I had to do it, Delaney. There was no other way.”