Page 43 of The Cruel Dawn (Vallendor #2)

The warm bathwater melts my tension and aches, and soon, I can’t tell dirty water from flakes of my skin.

After gently toweling off and applying that aloe-vera-like gel and kastat rose–scented oil to stave off further deterioration, I pull on a simple black tunic and black suede breeches.

The soft fabrics soothe my skin…and my ego.

Elyn meets me in the corridor, flawless and graceful as ever in her dove-gray tunic and breeches. “How are you feeling?” she asks.

“I’m not hurting as much as before but…” I motion to my face and hold out my peeling hands. “The diminishing continues.” I let out a shaky breath and add, “I have something for you.” I grab my scabbard from the trunk and pull Justice from her place beside Fury. “You’ve earned her back.”

Elyn gapes at me, then at the perfect silver sword. Her eyes fill with tears that match the glistening of that silvery-blue blade. “But you won her from me.”

“I did win her,” I say. “Did I say that I’d never remind you that I won her?” I pause, then add, “I will remind you. So take it. Please.”

She swallows, her chin trembling as she takes Justice from my hands. She whispers, “Thank you,” and studies the engravings on the blade. Arbiter. Judge. Truth. Mediator. Justice. Life. Death.

Elyn and I take our time walking back to the aerie, relishing the comfort and calm we haven’t experienced together over the last several seasons. Laughter—about nothing at all—bubbles up between us, and we’re again moments away from linking arms.

The Raqiel guards had taken Jadon to bathe, and he now stands in the aerie, clean and unsure of his station here.

His long, disheveled hair has been cut and combed, and his face is grime- and whisker-free.

He wears a simple blue tunic, breeches, and boots.

Despite the unremarkable clothing, his stance has also softened.

His eyes are hooded, and he shoves his hands into his pockets.

He looks… relaxed now, like he rules the realm but doesn’t allow it to consume him.

Agon tells us that he’ll search the Librum Esoterica , now stationed upon a wooden block in the Abbey, for the words that will kill those resurrectors.

“I was planning to read it myself,” Elyn says, starting to flip through those thick pages.

“You have greater tasks to complete,” Agon says. “Time hasn’t stopped for us.”

Though he stands in this aerie, relaxed and open, Jadon Wake Rrivae is still the enemy, the Weapon, the son who’d worked— forced or not —beside his father, the traitor, to destroy Vallendor—and to kill me.

“He must remain imprisoned,” Agon declares, dousing our early celebration with this sobering truth.

As the tattoo on Jadon’s hand continues to fade, there’s nothing we can do about the blood that still flows through him as Danar Rrivae’s son.

Are his other tattoos also fading? I’d kissed the irregular rectangle on the left side of his chest, and I’d licked the script that runs along his ribcage. With death comes life . Will he be free of them, too?

I ponder this as Jadon and I follow Elyn and the Raqiel down the stairs and back to the Abbey’s dungeons.

“I’ve wanted to ask you,” Jadon says now. “Back at Beaminster, down in those jail cells. How did you know all the names of the prisoners?”

I shrug. “It’s my job.”

When I don’t say more, he offers a thoughtful, “Hmm.”

I want to ask him about Beaminster’s jail, too.

What role did he play in building it? What role did he play in keeping it open? Did he ever imprison someone in that dank, awful place? If so, how could he be that cruel?

Those questions sit on my tongue, ready to emerge. I clamp my lips together, though; I’m not ready to hear his answers. Not right now. Instead, I ask, “Do you feel any different?”

Jadon squints at me. “That will be up to you. You make me feel all kinds of ways, Kai.”

“I’m not at my… most delectable right now,” I say, remembering my patchwork reflection in the mirror.

“If you say so,” he says, smirking.

The dungeon’s darkness slows our walk until Elyn and the guards become the light that guides our steps.

At least it doesn’t stink in this jail. At least there aren’t rotting bodies or suffering prisoners here.

Compared to the jail in Beaminster, this prison in the depths of Mount Devour might as well be a fancy inn.

Finally, we come to the end of the corridor, and the Raqiel opens the cell door. Jadon’s stacks of books and quilts have remained in their place.

“Sorry about this,” Elyn says as Jadon enters his cell.

“I understand,” Jadon says. “This is a sacred space of order and power, and you can’t have a diseased weapon running amok among the better gods.”

Elyn says, “Yeah. Something like that.”

I whisper to her, “Can you give us a moment?”

“A moment ? You fought giants and soldiers, wolves and bear-men, and you’re asking for only a moment ? Is that how you reward your success?”

“Okay,” I say. “Several moments.”

“But you can’t stay down here,” she says, wagging her finger at me. “So don’t even ask.”

I smirk and spread my arms. “Does this look like a place I’d beg to stay?”

Elyn rolls her eyes.

I cock an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a god you want to see before Selenova rises full and we all die trying to save Vallendor?”

Elyn’s freckles swirl across her flushed face. “Not really.”

“I saw What’s His Face from Astes up in the sitting room,” I say.

She wrinkles her nose. “He smells like Separi’s chewed licorice root.”

I wrinkle my nose in sympathy. “What about Calyx? He looks good. Well-rested…”

She tilts her head. “This could be the end of Vallendor, huh?”

“In the most awful way,” I say, stepping into Jadon’s cell. “Consider it while you can.”

Elyn closes the door. “I’ll leave some of the lights on.” She grins, waves a hand, and three bulbs of flame materialize in the air.

“Actually…” I grimace and shake my head.

She sighs and dims two of the lights.

My moth amulet rebukes my desire to hide in the dark and conjures its own golden glow.

Jadon and I stand there, listening to the footfalls of the Adjudicator and her guards… Once I can only hear our own breathing, I say, “Hey.”

He leans against the wall and crosses his arms, his eyes glinting. “Hey.”

I step over to him.

His arms snake around my waist. “You’re beautiful to me, okay? In every way.”

I press against him and smile as he hardens beneath me.

“You don’t believe me?” he asks.

“I don’t want to think about that right now.”

“Several moments” isn’t a lot of time, especially with all that I want us to do to each other. So we need to take the quickest routes to those destinations.

Both tattoos are right where I left them, and I lick each. “I’m back. ” I look up to Jadon and purr, “When we make it through this, I’m gonna bring you to your knees.”

“That a promise?” he asks.

“A promise and your dream come true,” I say. “Because, as you can see, I’m a merciful god.”

He stares at my lips before bending to kiss me. “Make my sword stronger than ever,” he whispers, “and let me fight beside you for all time. Gift me with unmatched strength, and I’ll write songs about you.”

“Is that your prayer?” I ask, nibbling his lips.

“Mmhmm.”

“Done.”

He plants kisses along my shoulder blade.

I lose my right hand in his hair as my left hand pushes down his breeches. His breath, hot and urgent, warms my skin as his nose nudges beneath my tunic. Our lazy urgency makes me breathless, and I close my eyes as I guide his hand to that place on me where it needs to be.

He lifts me up, and now I’m against the wall, and he’s strong enough to hold me, and I’m free enough to push down my own pants, and we’re agile enough to bend and twist until he’s inside of me.

And after a moment, I don’t even mind that my back scrapes the wall—the rhythm of our fucking adds to my pain, and I whisper words into his ear that make him move faster, faster…

He fills me with breathtaking colors, and gasps fall from my lips in between my moans and encouragement.

Yes, he pulls my hair.

I bite his lower lip because he likes it, and yeah, I like that, too.

We sink to the bed because this wall has become the size of a moth’s wings as we love each other down.

And I keep my eyes open as he brushes a teardrop rolling down my cheek, and I lock my arms tight around his neck because I never want to forget the way I feel right now beneath all this hurt, beneath all my decay.

And I ride and he pulls and we bite and our breathing quickens, he whispers, “Fuck,” and I whisper, “Ost.” I move quicker, spurred by his mortal curse and my Mera one, and I’m trembling and ready as he presses deeper and…

The world turns bright, and I cry out and lose my breath, and he groans and shivers and we clench each other, so neither falls onto this hard, cold ground. We rub our noses together, and I keep my eyes open to study his face.

We hear the guards’ steps and kiss each other good night. This may well be the last time.

It’s like we’ve discovered a new realm. Maybe after we save Vallendor, we’ll settle that new realm, Jadon and me. Yes, if I become whole again, if his own change finally comes, that’s what we’ll do.

We have seven dawns left.