Page 67 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

AURELIUS

T he scent of saltwater kisses my nose, letting me know I’m no longer in Prudia. Well, no longer in Elentia, at least. I stand on a shoreline, the cliffs behind me both unfamiliar and known. Nowhere in my memory do these cliffs exist, but in my soul and in my dreams, they’re home.

For most of my life, I felt like an outsider to some extent. Sure, Raynor and my parents loved me, but I never felt completely at peace. With Breyla was the only other place that I felt this serene, this sense of belonging.

A forest of tall white birch trees looms in the distance; the limbs barren for the winter. My uncovered feet crunch in the freshly fallen snow, the cold nonexistent. I study the landscape. It’s difficult to determine where the snow ends and the trees begin.

“It’s serene, isn’t it?” Gen asks, her arm slipping through mine.

I hadn’t noticed her there before, but it feels right. “It seems like somewhere I’ve been before, yet also the place I’ve been looking for my entire existence.”

Her dimples appear in that way when her smile is most genuine.

It’s not the smile she gives her people or the smile she gives when sitting for a portrait.

It’s the smile that lights her face in the midst of full belly laughter or the ones I’d catch her giving Raynor in intimate moments.

“That’s typically what home feels like.”

It reminds me of the peace I feel anytime Breyla is in my arms. It has been far too long since I felt that.

“This isn’t the home I know.” We walk along the beach, our feet leaving shallow prints in the snow-dusted shore.

“Perhaps it’s the home you’re yet to find, the one that was always meant to be yours,” she suggests, leaning her head against my shoulder.

“But where is it?”

“You don’t need me to answer that,” Gen replies, a knowing smile curving her lips.

I know her well enough to know that she isn’t going to answer my question. “It would be nice if you did, though,” I grunt.

“Hm, where do you think we are?”

“I’m afraid to say,” I admit. I don’t want to say aloud where we are, because I don’t want that to be what feels like home.

“Sometimes, the things that scare us the most are the most rewarding.”

The first thing her words bring to mind is the beautiful redhead she calls daughter.

My feelings for her were the most terrifying thing I had ever experienced.

I spent years fighting them, avoiding being at the palace or anywhere that Breyla might be.

Yet, when I finally gave in, finally faced the emotions she evoked in me, that was the most rewarding satisfaction I had ever known.

But that isn’t what she’s talking about now.

“I’m afraid to face whatever this place is. This half of me, it’s cruel. This part of my heritage is responsible for the death and suffering of so many. It’s what took you,” I whisper.

She stops, turns to face me, and runs her hand over my jaw. “A Fae may have laced that wine with the poison that took my life, but I died the day I slipped an ice dagger in Raynor’s head.”

My chest tightens, feeling the pain of losing her and Raynor all over again. The memory Elijah shared with us flashes through my mind as we both relive the moment Gen realized she had to end the life of the male she loved.

“I don’t know how to reconcile this part of me that feels responsible for the pain of so many,” I admit.

“Perhaps you’re blaming the actions of the few on a population of many,” Gen suggests.

“What are you saying?”

“That perhaps you are making a judgment without all the information.”

“Are the dead always this vague?” I tease.

“Only when we’re really trying to get a message across,” she laughs.

Her form wavers, the feel of her arm in mine beginning to fade. “I think it’s time to go.”

“One last thing, Aurelius,” she says, placing her semi-translucent hand on my chest. “If you ever keep things from my daughter again, I’ll find a way to help her end you, whether you’re my dearest friend or not.”

I release a hearty laugh, kissing her on the cheek. “There’s the terror I know and love.”

She smiles, her form fading. “Goodbye, Aurelius.”

“Goodbye, Gen,” I reply as my vision starts to fade.

The shoreline and salty air fade first, the birch trees and cliff fading next, until all I’m left with is darkness.

When I open my eyes again, I’m staring at the ceiling of the bedroom I’ve been calling home in Prudia. My toes are freezing.

A book in the far corner of the library calls for me when I enter the library.

With nothing else to occupy my day, I decide research might be exactly what I need.

Gen’s dream message left me uneasy and hungry for answers, for a truth other than what I already knew.

If Gen were right, and she normally was, then I need all the facts.

I’m missing a large piece of my history.

The pulling sensation guides me to a shelf in the back corner, undisturbed dust leading me to believe this section had been forgotten over the years. Running my fingers over the spines, I land on one particularly ancient-looking text. It’s leatherbound, the pages yellowed, and I flip it open.

No title.

I scan the first few pages, the words reading more like a journal entry or research notes than a finished book.

A few more pages reveal that I’m reading the diary entries of my grandmother, Elythia. The story of how she met Myer engrosses me, their love story unfolding in the entries on the pages before me. To my surprise, it wasn’t love at first sight. They hated one another.

“Reading something enthralling?” Breyla asks, her voice a breathy whisper in my ear.

I startle, having not realized she was that close. My head snaps to her, taking in her emerald eyes and auburn braid. A few strands remain loose around her temples, and it takes everything in me not to unravel that braid and sink my fingers into the chaos of her curls.

A quick check with my Hemonia Gift tells me we’re alone in the library. My fingers wrap around the slender column of her throat, pulling her lips to mine in a tantalizing kiss.

A soft pant leaves her mouth when I finally release her. Pulling out a chair, I motion for her to join me.

“I’m reading about how Elythia fell in love with Myer,” I explain.

Her head tilts, eyes roaming over my face. “I didn’t take you for a romance reader,” she teases.

I chuckle deeply. “I’ve read my fair share of… scandalous novels, Princess.”

Intrigue flares in her eyes.

“But that’s not what this is,” I continue, nudging the book between us.

She scans the book, sharp eyes taking in each detail on the page like it’s battle strategy. “This is her diary?”

“Mhm,” I confirm, moving to flip the page. Before I can, several pages turn over on their own, until we’re left at an entry dated several months after the previous.

“Whoa,” Breyla breathes, mouth hanging open.

Thanks, Gen, I think, somehow knowing her spirit had something to do with it.

We read in silence.

Today I am certain Myer is my mate. Not just a soul mate, but my twin flame. Something I didn’t even realize was possible between a Fae and a human. I don’t know how to tell him.

I hear snippets of his thoughts when we are apart, the words almost sounding like my own when I know they’re not. I caught him staring at me from across the ballroom when I suddenly had the thought of what I’d look like underneath my gown.

When his emotions run hot, as they often do, I will feel them as if they’re my feelings.

Last week, another human woman trained with him. He overpowered her easily, pinning her to the ground in minutes. I had to restrain myself from removing every piece of skin that touched his from her body.

I hated this male mere months ago, but now I can’t bear the thought of another touching him. He doesn’t just balance me as a soul mate would; he fuels my fire so we both burn brighter.

When we’re intimate, I battle the unrelenting urge to sink my canines into his skin and mark him as mine. My body yearns to forge our mate bond, but my mind refuses to relent.

I swallow hard, waiting for any indication that Breyla has finished the passage.

“Are there any more books on this topic?” Breyla asks, her voice unsteady.

“I haven’t looked.”

Finally, she peers up from the book to face me. “Perhaps we should.”

The suggestion has my full attention. I’ve understood the depth of my feelings for her for months, but it’s been something she’s struggled to accept.

I know she’s come to terms with them now, but it appears she may be keeping secrets from me.

“Now, why would we do that? Is there something you wish to tell me, little demon?”

“Is there something you wish to tell me, Aurelius?”

I huff a laugh, willing to play along. “Tell me again, how did you feel when it was suggested that I marry Lady Charlotte?”

“Like I wanted to shove my shadows down her throat and watch her choke,” Breyla says viciously. There’s no hint of shame or remorse in her answer. “How does it make you feel when Ayden kisses me?”

“Like, brother or not, I would delight in ripping his lips from his face,” I say with perfect calm. “I never shied away from how possessive I am over you.”

“What happened to you the night Ayden caught us and sent you away from the castle?” Breyla asks.

Odd question, but I’ll bite. “I went to bed. When I awoke, I was in a war camp along the western border of Prudia.”

“Yes, then what?” she urges.

“I was immediately thrown into battle when Fae warriors attacked.”

Her brow furrows, that beautiful mind working through something pivotal. “The battle high,” she gasps.

A knock interrupts that train of thought just before Ryder pushes his head through the door. “Apologies, General. Word has just arrived that Lord Elijah and Lady Ophelia have entered the city.”

All talk of mates and what may or may not be between us is instantly forgotten.

I trail Breyla as she rushes through the palace halls for the front gate. A trip that should take us ten minutes takes us five.