Page 3 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

CHAPTER ONE

brEYLA

A fter death, when the heart has ceased beating, the body will occasionally continue breathing.

The chest rises and falls for several minutes after the heart has stopped, making it appear as though the deceased is still alive.

It doesn’t always happen, but the first time you witness it is one of the most morbidly intriguing experiences.

It’s the postmortem motions of my mother’s chest that I see every time I close my eyes. The way her blue eyes glazed over and dimmed. The life leaving her, despite the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest for several long, tormenting minutes.

Dead bodies aren’t foreign to me, but nothing could prepare me for holding my mother as she passed from this world.

The sorrow of losing my father had clung to me, my shadows feeling the heavy weight of my pain, but nothing compares to watching the light fade from her eyes as Aurelius stopped her heart.

The same poison that claimed Nameah and Layne claimed her, too.

And I wish it had taken me with her.

That was two days ago. I think. I haven’t really slept, but judging by the number of meals left at my door, two days feels right.

I see no one, speak to no one.

I simply exist.

The soft patter of rain against my window is the only thing keeping me grounded as my mind drifts to memories of her.

“Come on, Breyla. It is time to meet your uncle,” Mother called from the doorway.

I had known Father’s younger brother was coming to live at the palace for weeks. Father said it was because he required more training than Grandpa or Grandma could give him. I didn’t really care why. I only cared that their attention would be on him instead of me.

“I do not wish to meet my uncle,” I said with a pout.

“And I do not care what you wish. You are eight and will do as you’re told for once.” An exasperated sigh left my mother’s lips as she took in the state of me. “Are there twigs in your hair?”

“Probably,” I said, fingers feeling through the tangled mess of red curls.

“But why are there twigs in your hair?” she asked, trying to pick them out and comb out my tangles.

I opened my mouth to respond, but she cut me off.

“You know what? I don’t want to know. This has Elijah’s name written all over it.

Let’s just get them out so your uncle doesn’t think you’re a heathen the first time he meets you.

” Her tone shifted from frustrated to playful as she tickled my sides and made me giggle.

“But I am a heathen!” I protested as my giggling subsided.

“Yes, but we don’t have to let him know that,” she teased, pulling me into a hug as she combed out the last of the tangles.

“Mother, is Aurelius going to stay here for a while?” I asked nervously.

“Yes. He needs your father’s help and training.”

“But what about me?”

My eyes cast downward, insecurity filling me. What if I weren’t as powerful as Aurelius when my powers manifested? Would they still care about me?

Her face softened. “Aurelius being here changes nothing for you. You will always be our number one priority, my love.”

I try to smile at the memory, but I can’t will the muscles in my cheeks to obey.

A knock rattles my door, but I don’t bother to respond. A few moments pass before I feel the brush of a familiar Gift press gently against my mental barriers.

“Go away, Elijah.”

Again, his Gift nudges me. I sigh, knowing he won’t leave me alone. He could break down the door if he wished, but he would choose to be persistent to the point of annoyance first.

With a resigned sigh, I drop the barrier and let him in.

“Open the door, B.” His voice is somber, but hopeful. This is the first I’ve let anyone in since my mother died.

He’s standing just outside the door, speaking out loud so I’ll hear. We can’t communicate telepathically through his Gift, but I can see and hear what he does when we’re connected. As much as I want solitude, his presence in my mind is a soothing balm to my aching soul.

Still seated by the window, I use magic to unlock the door. The handle turns, the door slowly creaking open. It clicks shut behind him, and his cinnamon chocolate scent invades my space, wrapping me in a blanket of familiarity.

“Have you eaten?” His voice is closer than I expected—he’s right behind me.

“You know the answer to that question.” I turn to look him over.

His dark blond curls are loose, hanging down past his shoulders, tangled and unkempt. Dark circles frame his warm brown eyes that take in my appearance. He nods—not in acceptance but understanding.

“When was the last time you slept?”

A humorless laugh escapes me. “I haven’t.”

“B—”

“What do you see when you close your eyes at night?”

He laces his fingers with mine, and I let him pull me into his chest. “I see Julian’s smile.

I see Jade on her knees before his funeral pyre, wholly consumed by the grief of losing her other half.

” His voice trembles. “I see Ophelia—the way she broke watching Layne die, knowing there was nothing she could do. I see her… never mind.”

“I see the light fade from my mother’s eyes.

Her chest still moves, and it looks like she’s still breathing, but I know she’s gone.

Yet, I hope that maybe I’m wrong. I see it every single time I close my eyes, Elijah.

And if I manage to sleep, I’m forced to relive her dying in my arms. Over and over.

I wake up screaming and alone. So no, I haven’t slept. ”

“You wouldn’t have to wake up alone if you let me stay. Or if you let him in.”

“I have no desire to see Aurelius ever again,” I spit, the memory of his betrayal flooding back with venom.

“You knew.”

My eyes locked on Aurelius’, heat rising in my chest.

“Princess—”

“Don’t fucking call me that. You knew!” I shouted angrily at him.

He reached out a hand for me, but I recoiled at his touch, wanting nothing from him except the truth.

“I knew about your betrothal to Prince Ayden,” he admitted, shame and resignation warring in his eyes.

Good.

He should be ashamed.

“And he’s your brother,” I hissed, lip curling in disgust.

“I didn’t ? —”

“I want nothing from you, Aurelius. Go fuck yourself.”

It shattered something inside me to utter those words. He had spent weeks earning my trust, winning my affection despite our sordid history—only to keep life-altering secrets from me.

Betrayal churned in my gut, warring with everything I felt for him.

“ He’s been a total disaster without you,” Elijah murmurs, running a hand up and down my back in quiet comfort.

“He’s not my problem.”

“I know you feel that way now, B—but he’s your heart. And you’re his.”

“He’s my nothing. He betrayed me, kept secrets, and broke my trust.”

Elijah sighs and gently guides me away from the window toward my bed. “If I recall, there was another male you swore the same thing about. And yet, he managed to win your trust back, eventually.”

“I never felt for Cillian the way I did for Aurelius, E.”

“You loved Cillian. Maybe not to the extent that you love Aurelius, but it was real.”

I stiffen, furrowing my brow. “I don’t love Aurelius.”

He sits on my bed, bringing me with him and cocooning us in the heavy quilt.

“Who are you trying to convince—me or yourself?”

I sit with the silence for a while before muttering, “Yes.”

Elijah’s voice is hesitant as he suggests, “You know… Ayden could help with the nightmares.”

“He’s keeping more secrets than Aurelius—which is not a surprise since they’re brothers—but I don’t trust him anywhere near my mind.”

“You’ll have to trust him eventually. He’s your fiancée.”

“For now. I’ll figure out how to get out of that arrangement.”

“Of that, I have no doubt. But I have a feeling he’s not your enemy.” Something in the curious way he says that snags my attention.

“He sure as hell seems like my enemy right now,” I say through a yawn. My body finally relaxes in his arms. I take a deep breath, finding peace in his embrace. Slowly, my eyes drift shut, and sleep finds me for the first time in days.

I wake to furious brown eyes glowing in the moonlight.

Aurelius.

Crimson specks dance in his irises, and his chest heaves like he’s been pacing.

Elijah’s arm is still curled tightly around me, his soft snores the only sound in the room.

My mind races, searching for clues to why he’s here. I had made it clear—repeatedly—that I wanted nothing to do with him.

“Breyla, please. Hear me out ? —”

“I have no desire to listen to more of your lies, Aurelius. My father signed a marriage contract with Prince Ayden behind my back—but you knew.”

“Yes, but I ? —”

“You what? Not only did you know about it, you were the one who facilitated the match on his behalf. You had every opportunity to tell me, yet you said nothing. Instead, you just fucked me and filled my head with pretty words,” I snarled, turning on my heel to leave him with his lies.

The memory of our last encounter leaves my blood boiling. Not wishing to engage with him, I flip him my middle finger and mouth get fucked .

His hand darts out, catching the offending finger.

In an unexpectedly gentle move, he raises my fingers to his mouth and kisses them.

I pull back, my emotions warring inside me.

Anger and betrayal are at the forefront, but warmth fills my chest at his touch, leaving me confused.

I latch onto the anger and let it drive me.

“I said get fucked.” Shadows twist around his throat, constricting at my command. Aurelius drops to his knees, putting us at eye level. “Don’t make me say it again,” I seethe in his ear.

The shadows around his throat do nothing to stop the rest of him as he yanks me from Elijah’s grasp, pinning me beneath him. “Gladly, Princess,” he growls, voice rough with restraint. “Just open those pretty thighs so I can taste what’s mine.”

He gasps the words as the shadows continue to squeeze—but they don’t stop him fast enough.