Page 68 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

Elijah has barely dismounted when Breyla throws herself at him. With a grunt, he catches her mid-air, spinning in a full circle. Breyla’s cry is muffled as she buries her face in the crook of his neck.

“Gods, I’ve missed you,” she breathes as Elijah brings her feet back to the ground.

Rowina saunters up beside Ayden and me. “Has she ever greeted either of you that way?” she asks, her lips quirking in a smirk.

“No,” Ayden grunts.

“That enthusiasm is reserved solely for Elijah,” I explain. And it’s true. I may hold her heart, but he’s always been the other half of her soul.

With a kiss on her cheek, Elijah releases her, and she turns to Ophelia.

They exchange radiant smiles before embracing in a hug that lasts an eternity. “The gods knew I needed you,” Breyla whispers, squeezing Ophelia tightly before finally letting go.

Elijah laughs. “We’ve been apart for far longer than this before. What’s all the emotion for?”

Breyla punches him playfully in the shoulder, and he winces. “Yes, but you’ve never been in imminent danger.”

“Being friends with you has always been a hazard to my health,” Elijah teases.

“And I’d like to think my expertise has contributed to their continued vitality,” a deep, lilted voice adds.

Cillian.

“Are you expecting a thank you, My King? ” Breyla taunts, a fierce look hardening her features.

Cillian’s eyes catch mine for just a brief moment before he replies, “I wouldn’t protest a thank you kiss, little general. ” He trails a gloved hand along Breyla’s jaw, tipping it up to meet his gaze.

My chest vibrates in a warning growl, Ayden tensing beside me.

But Breyla doesn’t need either of us to handle her battles for her.

Shadows constrict around Cillian’s hand, effectively halting it in place.

The ruby-hilted dagger I had crafted for her is poised at his throat.

Watching her threaten another male using the weapon I gifted her has my cock stirring.

“Not a chance, Cillian.”

A deep laugh erupts from the male, his freckled cheeks lifting in amusement. Streams of light dissolve the shadows keeping him immobile before caressing her cheek. “Oh, little general. I’ve missed that fire.”

She grins, dropping the dagger and sheathing it along her thigh. “Thank you for keeping my friends safe.”

“This is the former lover you mentioned?” Ayden asks, keeping his voice low so only I can hear.

I grunt in confirmation. “Does he seem harmless to you?”

Ayden’s eyes sweep over Cillian slowly. “That’s not the word I would use to describe him.”

“What are we whispering about?” Rowina whisper-yells, inserting herself between us.

“Just how incredibly annoying you are, sister,” Ayden responds, playfully shoving her away.

“Can you read him?” I ask, gesturing to Cillian.

“Hmm, let me see,” Rowina hums, narrowing her gaze. “He’s conflicting. A mix of amusement, curiosity, and I think that’s arousal, but I can’t discern who it’s for.”

“Harmless, my ass,” Ayden huffs, striding toward Breyla. Taking her arm in his, he smiles at Elijah and Ophelia. “Come, love. Let’s show your guests to their rooms.”

“Please!” Ophelia squeals. “I’m dying for a warm bath.”

Rowina links her arm in Ophelia’s. “Well, you’re in luck. We happen to have a few bathtubs in the castle. Let’s get you clean.”

Elijah trails behind, and I fall into step beside him. “It’s good to see you, Elijah. She’s been… chaos without you.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, falling swiftly. Sweat lines his forehead, and his heart rate is unusually high. He almost appears sickly.

My Hemonia Gift reaches out unbidden, exploring his blood for any signs of infection. While not common, thanks to our enhanced rate of healing, it is possible to fall victim to infection.

My heart nearly stops beating at what I find. I stop moving, grasping his shoulder to turn him in my direction. I wait until the others are out of earshot before confronting him.

“Elijah,” I start, voice catching in my throat. “Tell me I’m wrong, and that’s not the Fae poison in your veins.”

“Ophelia doesn’t know,” is all he says, a desperate, pleading look on his face.

“Fuck,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “How long ago did it happen?”

“Nearly three days back,” he says, swallowing hard.

My jaw goes slack. “You should be dead.”

“I know.” His voice cracks. “I don’t know why I’m not, but I understand I’m living on borrowed time.”

Tears pool in his deep brown eyes.

My Gift reaches out again, trying to gain an understanding of how far the poison has progressed. “It’s hard to say, but based on my limited experience, I’d say you have until sunrise tomorrow.”

He nods, a grim acceptance in his eyes. My arms wrap around him before I can process what I’m doing. I’m not a hugger. I can count on one hand the number of people I’ve ever hugged, but I’m hugging Elijah, and it feels right.

“Fuck you, Elijah,” I mutter against his shoulder as he finally returns my hug. “Fucking hells, what am I supposed to do? This will destroy her. How do you expect me to pick up the pieces of the female I love when you leave her shattered?”

“You’re the only one who can, Aurelius,” Elijah replies, breaking from my embrace. “I tried to warn you months ago that you two would need one another. I just pray someone is there to hold Ophelia together when I’m gone.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell her, Elijah? You can’t ask me to keep this from Breyla. If she finds out I knew and didn’t tell her, it will destroy the progress I’ve made in regaining her trust.”

A panicked look fills Elijah’s eyes. “You can’t tell either of them. If they knew…” he sighs, “they would spend my last hours trying to change the fate we both know can’t be undone.”

In this moment, I truly understand why he’s kept this secret. Breyla would undoubtedly spend what time he had left trying to fight the God of fate.

“I hate that you’re right.”

“So what are you going to do?” Elijah asks, wiping at the sweat pooling along his hairline.

An idea forms. “I can’t change your fate, but I might be able to buy you more time.”

Confusion scrunches his brow. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” I say, urging him toward the castle. “I won’t say anything. But if Breyla hates me for this, I will find a way to resurrect you, just to kill you myself.”

“She hasn’t truly hated you for longer than you realize,” Elijah reassures me.

“I’d like to keep it that way.” I hold the door open for him, watching him disappear inside.

Rowina is turning the corner, and I gesture for him to follow her. “Go bathe and settle in. I’ll find you in an hour.”

I knock on Ayden’s door ten minutes later, my eyes scanning for a flash of red hair as he opens. My voice is low as I ask, “Is Breyla inside?”

“No, she’s helping Rowina get our guests settled in.”

“Good, let me in. We need to talk.”

Ayden’s brow furrows in confusion, but he steps aside, letting me into his chambers. I lock the door, throwing up a silencing shield as I pace.

“What’s wrong?” Ayden asks when I fail to find the words after several moments.

“Elijah is dying.”

His entire posture stills. “Pardon?”

“He was poisoned on their way here. He hasn’t told anyone.”

“And your Gift detected the poison in his blood,” Ayden surmises, and I nod.

He curses. “How long?”

“It’s not behaving like previous cases. He should already be dead, but my best estimate is twelve hours.”

“How is it different?”

“He was poisoned three days ago.”

Ayden rubs his jaw. “That’s… interesting.”

“It’s not enough time,” I say tightly. “That’s why I’m here.”

“You’ve come to ask for the tonic.” It’s not a question; he’s already put together why I came to him.

I nod, tacking on a “Please.” Asking him for anything feels like swallowing glass, but if it means delaying Breyla’s heartache, then I would get on my knees if that’s what he asked of me.

He crosses the sitting room to a desk stacked high with orderly papers. “I have to stress, we don’t know how long this will give him, and there could be side effects.”

“I understand.”

He nods, opening the bottom drawer. “For whatever it’s worth, brother, my heart breaks for you.” Sympathy flits through his golden eyes, the corners of his lips turning down.

The glass vial feels small and precious in the palm of my hand. The liquid represents everything and not nearly enough in this moment. Gently, I squeeze the vial before slipping it into my pocket. “I’m not the one you should concern yourself over. I don’t think you grasp what this will do to her.”

Ayden’s lips turn slightly in a bittersweet smile. “Actually… I know exactly what this will do to her.”

Elijah’s time is limited, and I have none to spare for examining that answer.

I find the room he’s been assigned with Ophelia and knock on the door. Thankfully, it’s Elijah who answers, sparing me from having to make a reason to speak with him if Ophelia had answered. I peek over his shoulder, looking to see if she’s close by.

“She’s in the bath,” he explains.

“Drink this,” I command, slipping the vile into his hand.

He studies it, but slips the cork out, tipping the concoction back. “What is it?” he asks, wiping his mouth.

“A tonic to slow the spread.”

“That exists?”

“It’s new and experimental. Congratulations on being one of the first test subjects,” I say dryly.

“How long?”

I shuffle restlessly, wishing I had a firm answer. “We don’t know for sure. A day? Maybe less?”

Elijah swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“Use your time well.”

“I intend to,” he says with a nod, then closes the door, returning to Ophelia.