Page 30 of Tales of a Deadly Devotion (Tales of a Monstrous Heart, #2)

Chapter Seventeen

Kat

It is a blessing to exist. Therefore, the very pain of this existence must be a blessing too, for the ancestors have willed it so.

They have walked this world before and will walk it once more.

We pray not to worship blindly, but to seek the purpose of our path.

To challenge what we deem unwise. For the ancestors listen, and we too will be ancestors one day.

Ode to the Ancestors – Songs of Kysillia

The old story kept repeating itself in my mind and all I could think was that maybe it wasn’t a blessing after all. Maybe the fates of old, the creatures said to guide the ancestors’ will, were just like most creatures in this world. Cruel.

Emrys, Gideon and Thean had left to hunt down the summoning. Leaving me and William to get Alma into bed. Gideon had quickly assessed that the darkness of her transformation hadn’t caused her any damage.

He took her trying to bite him as he attempted to check her pulse as a positive sign she was herself. Exhaustion had claimed her shortly after.

I tried to keep myself busy while watching over her as she rested. Reading up on dark summonings to try to refresh my memory. To understand what relic Montagor could possess but I found my focus kept slipping back to Alma curled up beneath the covers in the bed.

Her defencelessness unsettled me. Reminded me too much of the past. Of all the things I couldn’t change.

Craving normalcy and to be finally rid of the stench of smoke from my skin, I retreated to the bathroom and scrubbed my bloody and ash-smeared skin until it was pink.

Pulling my nightgown on before swallowing down a stronger healing tonic.

Tired of the ache of my recovery. Yet found myself pulling Emrys’s coat back on, the scent of it soothing the small fluttering panic in my chest as I took up watch again in the chair by Alma’s bed.

Worry weighted my thoughts with the darkness of her change. Exhausting me enough as I slipped in and out of sleep. Only to be roused when cool night air dragged over my skin, to find the bed empty, covers rumpled and no Alma.

I jolted upright, seeing her standing before the open window staring distantly out at the night.

‘Alma?’ I called softly but she didn’t even flinch. Just kept staring out into the darkness. Her thin nightdress stirred by the breeze. Her thick dark hair falling down her back, curls wilder with her sleep.

I so rarely saw her in undress. In any other form than her pristine dresses, covered neck to wrist. Now the firelight washed over her, showing the tiny scars, line after line. Some too deep, puckering the skin. What they’d taken.

My heart ached at the memory of how tender the wounds had been when we’d first met. Red and angry, some opening back up too easily.

‘Alma?’ I gently reached for her. Startling her. Those feline eyes wide, taking in every inch of the room as if for a moment she didn’t recognise me before she mouthed my name.

‘It’s all right,’ I tried to soothe her. Her trembling clawed fingers coming to rest over my own.

‘I just needed some air.’ She shook her head, chin dipping so those dark curls concealed her from my view for a moment, scales shifting over her bare arms, like a reassuring caress.

How close her creatures sat beneath the surface. The wildness of her magic so tame, how at ease she seemed with it. So different than usual.

She’d come back from the darkness of that beast. No tremors or sickness. Just a lingering tiredness. Something I’d never seen before. Never even dared to hope was possible.

‘I’ve never seen you change that easily.’ No, it was always a curse. Something she fought and repressed.

‘It’s an old trick.’ She shook her head. Words too short as she returned her attention back to the dark window. To the distorted reflection of us.

She’d always told me it was beyond her. That her magic was cursed.

Only then did I see my mistake. I’d never asked when the curse began.

She’d been thirteen when I’d met her, and I’d never thought of those thirteen years.

Of all the secrets that she could keep. All she didn’t speak of and how a nameless girl had found her way to Daunton.

‘How old?’ I asked, unable to fight the spike of fear in my heart. Of all she hadn’t told me.

Then I remembered what lay beyond the window. What had captured her attention. Woods I wouldn’t forget as long as I lived. A maze of tight-pressed trees, undulating with ancient roots and moss. Daunton Wood.

I reached for the curtain, hating that we could see it, but Alma caught my wrist. Fingers still clawed and skin still rough from the change. Her damp dark hair clinging to her cheeks as if fell over her shoulders.

‘It’s just a wood, Kat. I’m fine.’ Her voice was hoarse from the sounds that had clawed up her throat. A stiffness to her spine as if faced with an opponent. Refusing to back down.

I ran my fingers through her thick hair. How the firelight brought out a warm sheen hidden in the darkness of it.

‘Let me take care of you.’ I slid my arm around her shoulders to steer her closer to the fire. Where William had left a plate of biscuits and some mint water. A little vase of bright blue povets – the healing flower.

‘What a worrisome idea,’ she huffed and I almost smiled as I eased her into the chair, turning to pour her some water but it was then I saw the small box’s remains in the fire. The one Master Hale had given her. The ones she’d kept more preciously than any gift.

Her chocolate box.

I crumpled before her, down to my knees. My hands came to rest on her knees. A sinner repenting.

‘I’m sorry, Alma. I didn’t mean for you to find out like that.’ Find out that it was a lie. That I’d led her on the wrong path.

He’d meant something to her and I’d shattered that hope so carelessly.

‘It was the truth,’ she shrugged. How much I still wished it wasn’t. That someone cared without a price. ‘I suppose if you want something enough, you can convince yourself of anything.’

‘I’m sure—’

‘Don’t make excuses for him, Kat.’ She twisted her fingers between my own. ‘He isn’t worth it.’

No. All this time he hadn’t been worth it. He’d kept us there. Used Alma to keep me in place. Used my love for her to form another bar in my own cage. I hadn’t seen it because I hadn’t wanted to.

‘I thought if I worked hard enough it would all be worth it in the end.’ I shook my head. All those hours and all that time trying to be perfect. Trying to become something they’d accept. ‘That if I could beat them at their own game, I’d make it better.’

I couldn’t stop the tears then as I was consumed by the bitterness of my own failure.

‘I wish more than anything that it worked that way, Kat.’ Her voice caught with those words.

As I finally understood there were some things even magic couldn’t fix.

‘This isn’t what I promised you,’ I whispered.

Late into the night in that forbidden dark place.

I’d told her stories of the northern shores, how we’d see them together.

How we’d be safe away from all of this. Yet, instead I’d led us to the centre of a dark storm and I feared more than anything … I couldn’t fix this.

She pulled back to smile at me. ‘You promised we’d stay together.’

‘Alma, this is beyond—’

She tightened her grip, leaning closer so I could see nothing but the bright, vibrant truth burning in her mortal green eyes.

‘I promised we’d stay together too. Don’t take my promises from me, Kat.’ There was a steel in her voice sharper than any blade. ‘No matter how far we go, or what creatures we have to become. We stay together.’

Always. That word wrapped itself around my heart.

‘I’m sorry that—’ I began but she slid from the chair to sit with me on the floor. Her finger rough against my lips as she silenced me.

‘ We fought for our freedom, Kat. Tooth and nail. Never apologise. Not to me. Not for a moment of it.’ Her eyes burnt brighter with the rebellion of her words as her forehead dipped to rest against my own. ‘We fight. We survive. That’s what we do.’

What we’d been forced to do and I wouldn’t guilt myself with it any longer. I wrapped my arms so tightly around her. The way I had that first night. Tucking my face into the curve of her neck. Home.

Her claws formed fists in Emrys’s coat at my back as I curled her closer to me, as I brushed my hand over her curls. Smoothing them as she held onto me.

‘I’m sorry I bit you,’ she mumbled, making me laugh.

‘I’m certain I deserved it.’ I smiled, my palm barely aching now the healing balm had sealed the wound.

I was certain I deserved worse for what I’d put her through. Only now the most important thing was holding her. Offering her that safety as the fire sank in the hearth to the barest embers and she sagged in my arms, finally accepting her exhaustion. Finally resting once more.

The house creaked, the edge of the rug next to my leg rising to tap my thigh gently to claim my attention.

I turned to find Emrys standing in the doorway, mid-step as if he’d been looking for me. His hair damp as if he’d been caught in a rainstorm, coat missing because I was wearing it, shirt untucked.

‘You’re back,’ was my quiet greeting. Alma didn’t move in my arms, too deep in her sleep.

‘Montagor appears to be quite lazy in sourcing locations for his summonings,’ he answered, coming into the room, the concern in his gaze running over every inch of my face before it dropped to Alma in my arms.

‘Is she all right?’ He frowned.

‘She was restless but I think she’s finally out now.’

‘Let’s get her back in bed,’ he offered, carefully taking her from me as if it was the most natural thing in the world. To handle Alma despite the fact she’d tried to bite Gideon twice.

I moved around him to pull the covers back on the bed so he could put her in. Tucking her in tightly as she curled automatically into her small pile of pillows. Then Emrys guided me back to the doorway as if cautious of disturbing her.