Page 76 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

OPHELIA

B reyla’s pain-filled moans ring through the empty hallway, echoing off marble floors and walls. Her cries increase, and the emotion in them tastes just like my own. I push open the door to Ayden’s chambers, the lock shockingly not in place.

I’m surprised to find Breyla alone in bed, Ayden nowhere to be found.

Her body thrashes, her mind caught in a nightmare.

I see tears coating her cheeks as I approach the bed.

I have no idea how to chase the demons from her sleep, but I can’t bear to leave her like this.

So, I do the only thing I can think of. I slip into the bed beside her.

“Breyla,” I whisper, shaking her shoulder gently. “Wake up.”

Her eyes flare wide, surprise filling them at seeing me in bed next to her. “Ophelia,” she pants, her breathing still heavy. “What are you doing here?”

“You were screaming.” I run my hand over her damp cheek, stroking softly. “I’m not sure where Ayden went, but I needed to make sure you were alright.”

Her hand comes to rest on top of my own, squeezing gently. “Thank you, Ophelia. It was just a nightmare.”

“I get them, too.”

A beat of silence passes between us.

“Do you want to talk about them?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper.

I almost tell her no. But these last six weeks without her have been harder than the months without her in Rimor. Maybe talking about it will help.

“Some are just memories. They make me sad, no matter what the memory is,” I whisper, and she nods. “Other times, I watch him die over and over anytime I close my eyes.”

“That happens to me, too.”

We lie there for a while, not saying a word, just enjoying each other’s presence.

“Tell me a story about him,” I request.

“Did you know I taught him how to swim?”

I shake my head.

“When we were seven, my father fashioned a rope swing over the river that runs behind the palace. Elijah adamantly refused to go anywhere near it, preferring to watch the other kids swim while he sat on the banks.” She readjusts in bed, flipping onto her back with her head still turned toward me.

“For a while, I just believed he didn’t like the water, like he was a cat or something. ”

I giggle at the image of Elijah with cat ears and a tail. “A cat?”

“I was seven. Give me a break.”

“Please, continue.”

“I realized eventually that he didn’t dislike the water because he loved storms. He would dance in them, saying it appeased the Goddess of Life and Death.”

“It most certainly does,” I agree, playing along.

Her lips tilt in a half smile. “When I finally put it together that he didn’t know how to swim, I made it my mission to change that.”

“How?”

“I asked him to play a game with me on one of the cliffs overlooking the river.”

I adjust in bed, mirroring her position. “What game?”

She grins widely. “Truth or dare.”

“You dared him to jump off the cliff?”

“I did, and when he refused, I shoved him off instead.” She smirks. “Then I followed him in.”

I gasp. “Was he mad?”

“He was livid, but once I showed him how to tread water and swim to shore, he was fine.”

“Remind me never to ask you for lessons on… well, anything,” I tease.

Breyla laughs. “I like to think of myself as a particularly effective teacher.”

“You’re scary, is what you are,” I say, faking a shudder.

She bumps my shoulder with hers. “Tell me something about Layne.”

“He’s the one who taught me to love reading.” Fondness fills my tone. It had been a long time since I could recall something about him that didn’t make me immediately cry.

“Tell me more.”

“I struggled to read. My mother showed me the basics, but she died when I was young. My father let my education slip, never bringing in a tutor after she was gone.”

“He’s always been a piece of shit, then?”

“Pretty much,” I agree. “Layne refused to let that stand. He was only two years older, but he taught me everything he learned. Since my reading skills were so basic, I often gave up on books before I’d even tried.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Layne thought so, too. That’s why he started reading to me every night.

He would pick the most captivating stories, read them out loud to me, and act out each part.

Every character had their own voice, and he would make sound effects that went along with the story. The whole thing was a production.”

I smile fondly at the memory. “Eventually, I became so enamored with the story, or rather the way he was telling it, that I would want to find out what happened next. I couldn’t wait for the next night’s reading, so I would force myself to read ahead.”

“That’s amazing,” Breyla says.

“Yeah, it really was.” I sigh wistfully. “It was hard at first, but over time, it got easier and easier until reading became like breathing.”

She smiles softly. “I love that.”

“The last gift he gave me was a first-edition copy of my favorite book. It was signed by the author and had gilded edges. It’s stunning.” I frown, remembering that the book had been left in Rimor, and I would likely never see it again.

Breyla’s brows shoot up, her eyes flaring wide. “That reminds me!”

She jumps up, going to the trunk at the foot of the bed. Flipping it open, she rummages through before pulling something free and climbing back into bed.

“I picked this up for you for Winter Solstice,” she says, handing me a book. “But I forgot I had it with… everything that happened.”

“Thank you, Breyla.” I open it, brushing my fingers across the pages. “I feel bad that I didn’t bring you anything.”

She brushes me off. “Don’t. Your presence is all I need.”

I hold the book close to my chest, my arms curling tightly around it. “I can’t wait to read it.”

“I expect a full report once you’ve finished it. It sounded intriguing when I skimmed it in Collin’s bookshop.”

“Of course,” I say, smiling softly. “Tell me something else about Elijah.”

“Hm,” she hums. “When his Gift first developed, he had absolutely no control over it. He became the court’s biggest gossip because he kept accidentally reading people’s memories.”

I gasp. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes. It was the most entertaining time. I’m surprised you don’t remember it. Weren’t you living at court by then?”

“I was… but father kept me incredibly secluded. No one would’ve dared gossip with me.”

“Probably for the best that you weren’t subjected to that chaos. He nearly ended three different marriages.”

“Yikes,” I say, chuckling lightly.

“On the other hand, it was how he discovered Julian was attracted to him. So, I suppose there was some positive that came from it.”

“And his slip in control was also how he knew I could be trusted,” I add.

“Very true. You tell me something now.”

“He saved my life, and not just on our way here.”

“Tell me.”

“I started sleepwalking after Layne died. One night, I ended up in the river behind the palace and nearly drowned. Jade was the one to pull me out, but it wasn’t the last time.

Elijah found me in the garden, sleeping on the ground.

I had lost time and had no memory of the previous day.

He slept with me every night after that, never letting me wander into danger. ”

“Yeah, that sounds like him.”

“I broke, Breyla. My mind still isn’t…” I pause, searching for the right word. “Whole. It feels fractured. But each time I found myself consumed by the darkness, he pulled me back. He was my sun in the dead of night.”

Breyla weaves her fingers with mine, squeezing gently. “Broken or not, your mind is a beautiful thing.”

A few beats of silence pass before Breyla says, “I need to apologize, Ophelia.”

“For what?”

“Recently, I haven’t been the friend you deserve. I shut you out, shut everyone out, after Elijah died. I know you were hurting just as much as I was, and all I did was hide. You needed me, but I was too selfish to see it.”

My first instinct is to tell her it’s alright, but I stop myself. “I’m not going to lie just to save your feelings. Losing Elijah was the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced, but being disconnected from you these last few weeks? That hurt, too. I love you. And I forgive you. But it did hurt.”

“I know,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

“Just don’t do it again.”

“Never again.”

We continue exchanging stories until we’re both yawning, sleep clawing at the edges of our minds. Just as unconsciousness threatens to overtake me, I hear the bedroom door open and shut.

“Two beautiful females in my bed and I wasn’t even invited?” Ayden says quietly.

My eyes crack open just enough to see him leaning against the wall beside the bed, a rakish smile tugging at his lips.

He looks exhausted. Mud cakes his boots, his tunic and pants are wrinkled, and his curls lie messily on his head. They look like he’s run his hands through them too many times.

“Where did you go?” Breyla yawns, not bothering to open her eyes.

“A fifth body was found late last night,” Ayden replies. “It was fresh, and I wanted to be there to inspect the scene myself. I’m sorry for leaving you.”

My gut churns with anxiety. Another body was found already?

“So soon?” I croak.

“This victim was discovered faster than the others thanks to a civilian stumbling upon the body by accident.”

I worry my lower lip between my teeth. “That must have been terrifying for them.”

“They were quite disturbed.” Ayden’s gaze settles on me, and something in his expression shifts; his eyes soften. “You have nothing to worry about, little one. You are safe within my walls.”

I nod, turning away from him. His promise does nothing to assuage the anxiety building in my gut.

“Now,” he drawls, “are you two going to make room for me in my bed or will I be forced to sleep elsewhere?”

“I’ll go,” I yawn.

“Good night,” Breyla mumbles. She’s snoring softly before I even make it out of bed.

Ayden offers me a hand up that I gladly take. He squeezes my hand tightly, holding on for longer than is comfortable.

The walk back to my chambers is short. I undress, too tired to search for a nightgown, and crawl into bed.

When sleep claims me, it’s deep and dreamless.