Page 73 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

“Love,” Ayden says, offering me a flower, “we have a slightly different ceremony here than in Rimor.”

To call it beautiful would be an insult; there were no words to describe it. Deep burgundy petals that fade into the darkest of black tips surrounded a gilded center. Iridescent gold specks covered the flower, giving it an ethereal glow. I had never seen a flower like it before.

“We call it the La Crencia flower,” he explains. “It’s believed to be a product of the faeries of old, made of pure magic. It only grows here as far as we know.”

I lift the gorgeous flora to my nose, inhaling deeply. “It smells like…”

“Citrus and honeysuckle,” Aurelius says, his nose buried deeply in his own flower.

“It smells different to every individual, but the scent should mean something to you.”

That explains why it doesn’t smell at all like honeysuckle or citrus to me.

“Mine is… spicy and earthy,” I say, trying to avoid outright saying it smells exactly like Aurelius.

“To me, it smells like honey,” Ayden muses. “That’s new.”

“Lilacs,” Cillian mutters.

Ophelia tips the flower to her nose, her brows furrowing. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispers.

“What do we do with them?” I ask.

Ayden twirls his stem, gaze distant as he contemplates something. “You place them on his body just before we light the pyre.”

I nod in understanding, then turn my stare to the unlit pyre. Heavy sorrow blankets me as the group waits for me to deliver the hardest goodbye of my life.

“Truthfully, I never imagined I’d be giving this eulogy.” My chest constricts at the weight of each word. “Elijah and I would joke that when the gods came to take us home, I would undoubtedly go first due to some reckless mistake on my part. I always believed that would be the case.”

My voice breaks, and I fight to continue.

“How does one say goodbye to the other half of their soul? How do I say goodbye to the one who made me laugh when I wanted to cry? Who supported me through every single mistake, and who held me through every storm?”

Tears flow freely down my face. “Furthermore, how do I pick up the pieces and move on after I’ve figured out how to let you go?

Because I never wish to forget. Even if I piece myself together with crucial parts missing, I refuse to leave behind the first male who taught me that family isn’t just blood.

The one who knew exactly when to push me and exactly when to hold me back.

The boy who broke his arm with me and suffered every consequence alongside me.

The person who taught me how to dance in the rain.

” My voice wavers, the memory playing out in my mind.

“You will be forever with me, my brother, my best friend, my soul mate.”

The last of the words catches in my throat. I’m trembling, though I can’t tell if it’s from the cold or something else entirely.

On shaking legs, I force myself toward the pyre. I place the La Crencia flower atop Elijah’s chest, resting my hand against his for a brief moment.

His face is peaceful but unmistakably lifeless.

Stepping back, I turn my attention to Ophelia.

When she speaks, her voice is raw with grief.

“Elijah taught me so many things. He taught me to love and how to be loved properly. He showed me what it was to trust another, after having spent so long trusting no one. I quite literally owe my life to him several times over, and that is a debt I can never repay nor ever forget.”

Her tiny fist clenches tightly around the stem of the La Crencia. “He was everything to me. He made me so many promises, and I’m so godsdamned fucking pissed at him for breaking those promises.” Her broken words drip with anger.

“Damnit, Eli. We didn’t have the life you promised me.

We will never get to grow old or find out what our kids look like.

There will be no slow dances and no hot chocolate by the fire.

There will be nothing because, without you, nothing has any meaning.

It should be me on that pyre and fuck you for taking my place,” she sobs.

“But for all that it’s worth, thank you.

Thank you for teaching me to love and for loving me.

I will never, not for a single breath, regret loving you.

Thank you for showing me how to trust, for showing me so much passion and devotion.

Thank you for dragging me out of the dark and reminding me what light feels like. Thank you… for it all.”

Her voice breaks as she lays her flower beside mine.

One by one, the rest of those in attendance walk up to leave their flower atop his pyre. When the last flower is placed, I step forward, my arm outstretched to Ophelia.

She meets me, her hand slipping into mine.

“Together?” I ask.

“Together.”

As his pyre is set ablaze, together we sing the Rimorian death hymn one more time.

May the mother keep you close

And the father protect you now

The tears that once were shed

Make the flowers grow

When the night is darkest

And the sun has ceased its shining

May you remember

My love for you is eternal

From your first breath

Until your very last

May the gods grant you peace

The flames crawl higher, fully engulfing his body as the second round begins and the remaining voices join.

When the fire reaches the flowers atop his body, something breathtaking occurs.

Simultaneously, they burst into flames, golden sparks dancing around him and high into the sky.

The scent of chocolate and cinnamon fills the courtyard.

I catch Ophelia from the corner of my eye and see the bitter acceptance flash in her silver eyes.

It’s Elijah’s scent.

And this is the last time we’ll ever smell it.

I make it through the third round before my voice fails me, pained cries taking its place. Waves of sorrow wash over me as every memory I have with Elijah floods my mind. Each one is a beautiful juxtaposition of joy tinged with sadness.

Desolate, piercing screams reverberate through the too-empty courtyard as my chest cleaves open, leaving me exposed and even emptier. My knees hit the ground, but I don’t even notice the cold of the snow below me. All I feel is the void in my chest growing wider with each passing breath.

I release the hold on my shadows, letting them flow freely and react to what I’m feeling. Wave after wave of emotion tears through me. Grief, anger, regret, denial, joy, guilt, and finally acceptance all tangle inside me simultaneously.

I feel it all, then nothing else.

The numbness creeping back in takes root and leaves me empty once more.