Page 72 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

brEYLA

M uch like when my mother died, I see Elijah’s face every time I close my eyes.

In the two days since Aurelius stopped his heart, I have not eaten, nor have I slept.

The overwhelming sense of wrongness weighs on me.

How I can feel so heavy when such an integral part of my soul has been ripped from me is beyond my understanding.

Anxiety churns in my gut as I think about what today is.

A soft knock at my door reveals Aurelius.

I say nothing but let him enter my room.

In his arms is a dress, a familiar one at that.

It’s the dress from my mother’s funeral.

The one that made me feel like I was wearing armor instead of a mourning gown.

It was everything I needed at that moment and everything I would need today.

I didn’t realize it had made the journey with us to Prudia.

“Where did you get that?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

“Elijah had it packed with your things. I simply located it for you,” he replies quietly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“You mean you stole it from wherever your brother had it hidden.”

“Fuck my brother.” His words hold no venom, and silently, I wonder when that changed.

Aurelius lays the dress across the bed and pulls me into his arms. He presses a kiss to my hair, and I sigh, searching for any emotion, trying to find anything to feel aside from numb.

Tears well in my eyes, and I whisper, “I don’t think I can do this.”

“I know you can. But even if you can’t, even if you fall and shatter, I will be there to gather every broken piece.”

“But what if you can’t find them all? What if some are just… gone?”

“Then we will be beautifully broken together.”

We stand there, still and quiet, until I finally whisper the words I had uttered only once before, “I love you.”

He pulls back just enough to see my face, his eyes searching mine as he processes my words.

“You mean it?”

“I mean it,” I confirm. Technically, I had meant it the first time I said it, but I can understand why he would question it.

“Why now?” His hand brushes down my jaw, gently cupping my cheek.

“Because I don’t want the first time you hear that to be as you lay dying. I just thought you should know.”

Aurelius’ eyes flutter shut, a relieved breath escaping him, just before he takes my mouth in a kiss like no other.

It’s tender yet scorching as he pours every emotion he’s feeling into it.

I meet his passion with fire of my own, our tongues dancing, teeth clashing and nipping as we fight for control.

Little does he know, I would give it all to him.

The kiss is soul-searching, and as we break for breath at last, something deep inside my chest settles.

He rests his forehead against mine, his hand still caressing my jaw. His touch chases away the numbness for just a moment, and I relish in his warmth.

“It would seem we are finally on the same page, Princess.” He exhales a heavy breath, something relaxing in him for the first time in a very long time.

“I love you. With everything I am, I love you. My brother can get fucked, because you are mine.” The last of his words comes out with a possessive growl.

“Yours,” I agree.

His hand wraps around my neck as he whispers, “I am so very mad at you right now, little demon.”

My head tilts back slightly, relishing in the slight pressure he applies to my throat. “Why?” I rasp.

“Because you waited until we’re minutes away from needing to leave for your soul mate’s funeral pyre to tell me you love me. The last thing I should be thinking about is bending you over and fucking my claim into you so you never forget who you belong to.”

My breath comes in soft pants, heat blooming in my core. “All you need is thirty-seven seconds.”

A dark chuckle erupts from him as he smirks.

“All you need is thirty-seven seconds. I’m going to need hours after what you just professed.

” He runs his thumb along my bottom lip, pulling it down softly.

“I’m going to draw those words out of your pretty lips again and again while I fuck you raw. Then you’ll beg me for more.”

Reluctantly, he releases me before I can reply. “Time to get dressed, Princess.”

He spins me so I’m facing away from him. Teasing fingers graze the length of my neck, then down my shoulder, pulling my nightshirt away and leaving my skin bare. Honeyed kisses pepper my neck as he pulls the shirt off, letting it fall to the floor.

I grunt in frustration when I feel his body heat desert me, leaving me naked and cold.

He returns a moment later, my dress in hand.

“Arms up.”

I oblige, letting him maneuver my limbs into the dress. The leather-like material slides on like a second skin, hugging me tightly. Sighing, I smooth the skirt as Aurelius gathers my hair and pulls it over one shoulder.

Featherlight touches trail along my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

His fingers trace my spine slowly, coming to a stop at my hips.

The touch leaves me desperate for more—more of his hands, kisses, and skin all over my body.

I’m silently begging him to keep touching me, to chase the numbness from my veins.

“You look just as fierce,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss just below my ear, “and absolutely fucking edible, as you did the first time you wore my dress.” Another kiss lower along my jaw.

I turn my head to look him in the eyes. “Your dress?”

His lips curl in a smug smile, dark irises sparkling. “Who did you think had this dress designed for you?”

“Ophelia said it looked like it was made for me . It was exactly what I needed to face my kingdom at my mother’s funeral. It made me feel strong when I was utterly broken.”

“It was made for you, Breyla.” Aurelius tucks a stray tendril behind my ear, his thumb tenderly stroking my cheek. “Only you.”

Tears well in the corner of my eyes as my hands clench his tunic, pulling him closer. “You knew what I needed even when I didn’t. You made sure I had it when you were just as hurting and broken. Even when you thought I hated you, you still put me first.”

Gently, he strokes my hair before pulling me in for a soft kiss.

“You will always be my highest priority. I promised both your parents I would keep you safe, and I’m vowing to you now that I will always take care of you, whether you want me to or not.”

“I don’t deserve you,” I whisper, and the tears finally spill down my cheeks.

“Probably not,” he says with a faint smile, “but there’s no returning me now, Princess.”

I laugh through my tears, because it’s such an Elijah thing to say. But the laughter twists into sobs as pain wracks through me in waves. For several moments, he says nothing. He just holds me while I break.

“I know you feel guilty for finding a moment of joy right now, but he would’ve wanted you to laugh.”

“I know,” I whisper.

“Your capacity for love is why you feel this loss so deeply. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You feel the pain of loss so viscerally because you love just as deeply. The more you hurt, the more you love just as fiercely. It’s a trait you inherited from your mother.”

My smile is bittersweet, and I let the pain and simultaneous joy seep inside my bones.

“We need to leave,” Aurelius says after a few minutes.

“It’s cold as shit.” I squeeze him to me tighter, hoping it will keep him from moving.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I also stole you some of Rowina’s fur-lined leggings.”

“Have I mentioned I love you?”

“No. I think I need reminding.”

“I fucking love you, Aurelius.”

“I fucking love you, Breyla. Now get dressed.”

Reluctantly, I release him and reach for the leggings.

Slipping them on, I sigh in sweet, warm relief.

Without needing to be asked, Aurelius drops to one knee, a pair of thick wool socks in hand.

I brace against the dresser and lift my foot.

He rolls one sock on, followed by my boot, then repeats the process with my other foot.

Lastly, he drapes a fur-lined cloak across my shoulders and ties it snugly in place.

“No matter what,” he says as we head for the door, “I’m with you, Princess. Always.”

We stand in the courtyard, waiting for the others to arrive. Cold winter wind nips at my skin, painting it pink. I should feel cold, but the overwhelming emptiness is all I notice. The warmth recently conjured by Aurelius’ presence has fled as he stands beside me, not touching any part of me.

There are still traitors in this court, just as there were in my own. Though Ayden hasn’t explained entirely, I knew we were being watched and they needed to believe the farce that was our engagement. Which is why I lean into his heat when he steps up behind me.

It was comforting, but he didn’t chase away the gnawing emptiness like Aurelius had. His handsome face is solemn as he pulls me close, his fingers curling gently around my shoulder.

I glance around at the attending faces. There were so few, and even fewer who truly knew Elijah.

Queen Josephina is here, but I suspect it’s out of royal obligation.

There should be more. In Rimor, he was well-loved by everyone at court, but this kingdom did not know the male resting on the funeral pyre.

Rowina and Darian stand on the other side of Aurelius. Cillian and Ophelia are the last to join. With no regard for the prince, Cillian shoves his way between us, pulling me into a tight embrace.

After my initial shock wears off, I wrap my arms around him, returning the gesture.

“I’m so sorry, Breyla,” is all he whispers before releasing me and returning to Ophelia’s side.

He guides her to stand beside Ayden, her face unreadable. Her eyes are red and swollen but vacant. They’re somehow filled with immeasurable pain, yet nothing at all. It’s a haunted look that I don’t recall ever seeing on her before. Not even when she lost Layne.

Something is irrevocably broken in her. My soul echoes the sentiment.