Page 27 of Artemysia

“My deepest fear, my darkest nightmare.” - Riev

T he lemon and lavender clouds of dawn peek through the small, deep window of the bedroom. I’m up early to take a hot bath, a luxury we may not have for a while.

Last night with Delphine in my arms, I fell into a sound, dreamless sleep, and now I’m in a good mood. I almost whistle a happy tune as the tub fills with steamy water—but let’s be honest, I’m not a fucking cheery maniac like that, so I hum the tune silently in my head.

I feel like a witless sap, but she brings out a side of me I like. Even so, I force myself to wrap my head around the possibility that she’ll see things in a different light this morning as we head into Artemysia.

I dunk under the soapy water and hold my breath. Counting to two hundred, I steel myself for the fact that we have a job to do. Or more like, she has a job to do, while my own mission is to keep her safe. She already almost died saving Ivy. Putting others first will be her ultimate downfall .

From a survival aspect, she makes no sense.

At this, I surface, expelling water from my lips.

Delphine screams and launches her toothbrush at me. She’s wandered sleepily into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

She recovers. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were using the tub. Who bathes entirely submerged?” Her shock turns into amusement at my expense as a grin spreads across her face.

I don’t mind. She’s still wearing my shirt with no pants, and seeing her hair mussed and eyes puffy from sleep is worth it.

“I was practicing holding my breath. It feels good to be underwater,” I mutter, rubbing my palms over my face to wipe away the water dripping into my eyes.

Her smile widens, showing off her bright white teeth as I sit upright. She’s staring, and when her eyes drop lower, I cover myself and turn away.

“What are the scars on your back?” she asks.

Oh hell. I slip back into the water, splashing as I submerge.

I have a large reddish X-shaped scar across my back, and a round one at the base of my spine.

“Stop trying to look,” I grumble.

“You saw all my scars.”

“Fine. I’ve had them since I was a baby, and they never went away. In fact, they strangely grew and stretched with me, never fading…”

Do I tell her? A flood of nausea sickens me. Fuck. This is going to ruin everything.

A lump in my throat prevents me from continuing.

I’m not okay with this.

I can’t keep secrets from her.

Everyone else, yes. Not her.

“Oh. Do you know what they’re from?” she asks neutrally.

I yank the drain of the tub. “Can you hand me a towel? I’m feeling very naked right now.”

She hands a large towel over the edge of the tub, and I stand to show her my scarred back as I wrap the towel around my waist.

There she stands, looking concerned again. She’s always concerned when it comes to me. I relished it before, but in this moment, I despise it. Or rather, I despise myself .

She deserves my honesty.

“Don’t say anything to the others, okay? This is going to come as a shock to you, so I understand if you hate me, but please don’t tell Throg or Ivy.” I look back over my shoulder at her.

“What is it?”

“Promise me,” I say, more forcefully.

“Okay, okay, I promise.”

I face her again, though I doubt that I want to see her expression. “I think —the Academy and King Galke think—that before I was abandoned as a baby, I had surgery.” Pausing for a breath, I regret saying anything, especially when I see the unease tarnishing her sweet face.

“Surgery?”

“To have appendages removed.”

I’m not sure if she knows she’s holding her breath, but her mouth parts as if she wants to say something, but instead a breathy, low “Oh…” slips out.

Here goes nothing . “King Galke thinks I am part Syf, and my wings and tail were removed before I was found by the Academy,” I say in one long exhale.

I’m so disgusted at myself, disgusted at what I could be, that the words cut in my throat as though I’m being choked by glass. I brace myself for her reaction, my hands gripping the towel around my waist. It’s rare for me to feel terror, but in this moment, it crowds my entire being.

“That’s terrible. How could anyone do that to a baby?” Her brows knit together in quiet concern. She stretches out a hand as if to place it on my arm, but I pull back.

She never says what I expect her to say.

Perhaps she didn’t hear me.

Of course they would do that to me. My parents. Maybe it was an effort to make me more human, but they abandoned me anyway, because they couldn’t escape the truth of what I really was. Who on earth would want a monstrosity for a son?

My fingers pinch the bridge of my nose, but it does nothing to help with the hole in my soul.

“Aren’t you appalled that I could be half-Syf? Half non-human ? I touched you last night. Does that not make you sick? I’m sorry, I should have told—”

She cuts in gently. “No one knows for sure, or if that’s even possible. And maybe it makes some sense. It’s why you’re so fast and naturally skilled.”

Naturally skilled at killing, she means, but she doesn’t say it.

I don’t believe her.

My hands want to take her by the shoulders and shake her, but they remain clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. “You’re just accepting this? Even I have trouble accepting it. What if…what if I become like them?” I can’t keep my voice steady at this terrifying thought.

My deepest fear, my darkest nightmare.

The way Delphine looks at me hasn’t changed at all.

She can’t be that good at hiding revulsion or shock.

There’s no look of disgust, like I see in the eyes of the colonels—it’s why they leave a wide berth around me.

It’s why King Galke makes a show of power and courage by sitting next to me.

It’s not that I’m held in high esteem. It’s to prove a damn point, to remind us all that he is in control.

“You’re not like them at all. And I trust you.” She angles her head to catch my baffled gaze. “I trust my team. You’ve been nothing but human and I don’t think a few scars should change that.”

I narrow my eyes, wary of pity. “It’s fine if it bothers you. It bothers me. I should have told you earlier. It’s like a deep, dirty secret that I carry on my back. But I wanted you to know. No lies.”

She scrutinizes me with her arms folded across her chest, pressing her breasts up. I look down at my bare, damp feet. At least they look human. No long claws.

“Do you need an inspirational quote—or a hug—right now?”

Surprised, I spit out a bewildered huff of a laugh. Is she telling me it’s okay by making light of the possibility that I’m not entirely human?

The loathing I feel for myself burns into my very being, but she stomps on the flames.

“I’ll take a hug,” I reply gruffly.

She tows me by my waist into an embrace and places her warm cheek on my shoulder. She uses her sleeve to dab off the water droplets running down the dusting of hair on my chest, then absently scratches the stubble on my chin and throat .

It sends shivers down my spine.

Her voice drops. “You know what it means, then?” She’s not trying to be seductive, but her voice lures me in, and I’m praying to the gods above and the demons below that she doesn’t feel that I’m half-hard behind this thin towel.

I’m listening, hanging on to every word that comes out of her rosy lips. “What?”

“You’re one-of-a-kind, which means you’re irreplaceable. Sorry, the hug comes with an inspirational quote.” Her thick lashes flick up at me unapologetically.

I bow my head to kiss her forehead, leaving my lips to linger. Her hair smells like grass, woodsmoke, leather—remnants of our long ride to Limingfrost—and a honeyed scent that reminds me of orange blossoms on a hot summer day by the riverbanks.

All my favorite scents. Tantalizing.

Delphine clutches me tighter before releasing me, peeling away. The space she leaves behind feels empty and cold.

The depth of her beauty is reflected in the certainty of her gaze. She believes in me. Me. Why? “Don’t think good thoughts about me,” I say. “You’re wrong.”

“Quit telling me what to do. I give the orders here.” She grins.

It should be against the law to have a smile that lethal.

“Now where is the toothbrush I tried to spear you with when you startled me?” she says cheerfully.

Reluctantly, I leave as she searches around the tiles.

I’m still reeling after admitting my filthy secret, and I don’t understand her reaction to it.

Not a flinch.

Delphine. I’ve never met anyone like her.

She unearths a man’s deepest fears, prying out a confession from the darkest chasms of his heart, and turns it into his strength.

You’re one-of-a-kind, which means you’re irreplaceable . Her words replay in my disbelieving mind.

I’ve been falling, uncontrolled.

But she breaks the hard fall with her soft heart.