Page 182 of As Above, So Below

I must have been wearing my emotions on my face, as Ryc leans down, kissing my forehead softly.

“We will get through this,” he whispers, caressing my cheek.

Gods, how my heart swells with his words.

Standing before me is the vision of the fae that’d called to me across realms. If only I’d listened to him sooner. Instead, I never tried and wasted centuries of time.

“Ryc, I…” my voice evaporates as my vision blurs. “Please return to me.”

How is it possible to speak words that are both the truth and a lie?

His eyes soften as he stares down at me, gathering me into his embrace. “Always,” he murmurs quietly, resting his forehead against mine.

My hands lift to his face and I draw him to me, kissing him. He folds me into him, his arms circling tightly around me. As I deepen the kiss, beckoning his tongue to mine, he steals my weight from me, sweeping me off my feet. My arms wrap around his neck and I cling to him, needing to be closer.

The lawn below erupts with cheering, clapping, and whistles from the soldiers. The encouraging and joyful sounds ring across the northern lawn and gardens, and I begin to laugh at some of the unexpectedly raunchy remarks being shouted.

Ryc also laughs, breaking the kiss. He brushes his lips against my brow as he lifts me upright. The cheering continues, heat stinging my cheeks with the sudden attention. A multitude of faces are turned in our direction, watching us with broad smiles, Fenryn included.

Chuckling, Ryc brushes his nose along mine.

“Hurry up and accept the bond!” one soldier taunts, his hands cupped around his mouth. Laughter rises around him as Ryc laughs with them.

I still don’t understand what that means.

“Nevin, I’ll send you to the nine hells myself if you don’t shut up,” Fenryn barks from across the lawn and I burst into laughter.

Fenryn glances in my direction, shooting me a smile with a wink.

Perhaps I should have read more about fae customs and traditions. But I’m not going to ask what the soldier meant.

Not now.

It wouldn’t do me any good to know.

“I will find you after,” Ryc says softly, his pained expression telling me this is the absolute last thing he wants to do.

It’s the last thingIwant him to do.

Our minutes are whittling away into seconds.

He leans, kissing me gently. “I will be your weapon, little death,” he whispers coarsely.

Holding his stare, I frame his face with my hands,needingto remember every detail—the way the gold of his eyes shifts in this light, the way his hair feels like silk, the heat of his skin under my palms… Let it be this moment, this meeting, that inspires my dreams for the dark centuries to come.

Expressions of love are far and few in the world of demons.

Too often we speak the words others want to hear, not the words we want to say.

Not me.

Not today.

“Keeper of my darkened heart,” I whisper in Malbolge, “you are my light.”

Words he’ll never understand trapped in a memory I’ll never forget.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE