Page 41 of The Deathless One (The Gravesinger #1)

He hated being here, of all places, but he was rather embarrassed about their kiss. It had been centuries since he’d kissed anyone, and he’d forgotten how awkward it became to actually see the person that he’d kissed.

What did he say? Was he supposed to do it again? Elric had spent far too many years alone to know what was the right choice. He didn’t think he’d ever felt so much anxiety about seeing someone again.

Jessamine was more than someone who was using him. He could feel deep in his bones that she didn’t see him as another tool in her arsenal. She spoke to him like he was a person. Like he meant something to her.

He had not yet learned how to converse with her without feeling his entire soul soften.

It was a dangerous game he played. Like he was moving his finger over an open flame, thrilled at first that there was no pain, but every pass over it was getting slower and slower. Soon enough, he’d burn himself.

Blowing out a breath, he wandered through the darkness and tried to slow his mind. He needed to be clearheaded. There were many ways for this to go wrong. She would eventually want to sacrifice him. That was the first issue. Every witch eventually fell to the desire for power.

Sybil would do it. He’d seen it in her eyes the first time he’d replenished her power. She would want to kill him, eventually, and that meant he had to keep an eye on her, no matter how much Jessamine trusted the woman.

All of their journey, every step of the way, had been reliant on Jessamine’s trust. And she offered that out to anyone who was mildly kind to her.

For all that she’d tried her best to protect her lands, she was still a princess and thus innocent to the evils of this world.

A sharp pain vibrated through his jaw, and he touched a hand to the sudden ache.

Was he feeling old memories in this realm now?

That would certainly throw a wrench into his plans.

This place was always meant to be a numbing solitude.

If he began to feel things here, too, that certainly wouldn’t end well for him.

Another pain, this time in his left side. Strange. He had never…

Jessamine.

A cold sensation traveled down his spine, and he realized that Jessamine and he were tied far closer than he had ever suspected. Something was happening to her. Something, or someone, was attacking his little gravesinger, and he needed her alive for a lot longer than this.

Elric tried to go to her. He was so confident he could, but he’d apparently been in that realm with her longer than he’d originally thought.

He felt the flexing of his power, but the dangerous and sharp edge of shadows that kept him in this realm never budged.

He wasn’t strong enough to leave on his own.

Baring his teeth in frustration, he tilted his head back and shouted, “When will this curse release me?”

He had not filled his reserves of power yet.

The chains around him from the gravesingers’ curse were still binding and tight.

Soon, he would have enough magic to break free from this realm, but not yet.

He could visit those who worshipped him, of course, but she did not worship him.

Unfortunately, it also meant she had no patron. No protection.

She was utterly alone.

He had no idea how long it took for the summoning to take place. All he knew was that one moment he was in his realm, and the next, the shadows released him with a wet pop and he was standing in a dark alleyway.

It wasn’t the same day as the last time he’d seen her. Time had passed. He could feel it deep in his bones, but that meant she’d been wandering this city without him. He searched the shadows where he’d been summoned, gaining his bearings in this city of thieves and robbers. And then he saw her.

Jessamine sat on the dirty ground, leaning against the wall, with a rip in the shoulder of her shirt and mud splattered all over her form.

Her cloak was on the ground beside her, so saturated in blood it looked black.

A dark bruise already bloomed along her jaw, but it was the blood leaking out of her left side that gave him pause.

A knife wound, he would guess, and considering her labored breathing, it was a wound she wouldn’t survive.

She pressed her hand over the gash, but blood still seeped between her fingers. Her pale face was ashen, those dark eyelashes dusting her cheeks the moment she saw him.

“I made a mistake,” she wheezed, her voice ragged and tinged with pain.

He took a staggering step toward her, his heart in his throat. “I… I’m so sorry, Jessamine.”

“I know, I know. Ruined your plans.” She took her hand away to look at it, swallowing hard as she saw the amount of blood on her hand. “Can’t just march up and ask people about Callum. Silly of me, I guess.”

He walked over to her side, then crouched down to look into her eyes. The poor thing was already halfway dead. There wasn’t a person in this realm who could save her life, even if he tried his best to get their attention.

She would die. Again. All because he hadn’t been here.

“What happened?” he rasped.

“I asked the wrong people about Callum.” She leaned her head back against the wall, ragged breathing barely filling her lungs. “They thought I was a witch.”

“So they killed you?”

“I’m not dead yet.” Her eyes opened wide before she looked down at her bloody fingers again. “Although, I suppose you’re right. I’m probably dying again, aren’t I?”

Elric leaned forward and pressed his hand over hers. “I’m not able to heal a mortal wound like this in your realm. Little ones, yes. Benji stabbing your shoulder wouldn’t have killed you, but this… certainly will. Such things are beyond the powers that I possess.”

A little hiccup escaped her lips before she nodded. “Right. I should have guessed that.”

“Tell me everything.”

“They said I was a witch, and that witches don’t belong in the Factory District.” She blinked a few more times, as though trying to get him back into focus. “It is a shame. Witches could probably help us more than they could hurt.”

“I know that to be true.” Squeezing her hand, he sighed. “Why didn’t you use your powers? Even unintentionally, you could have killed them all. Look at what you did to Benji.”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “They were afraid of me. When the first one threw a punch, I had the thought, I could raze them all to the ground and leave them bleeding out. But then I saw how afraid they were, and how that fear was what they expelled every time they hit me, and I…”

The parallel to his own life was not lost on him. He’d allowed himself to be sacrificed countless times, knives and fists applied to his flesh like a balm that was meant to heal everyone else but him. She’d done the same thing for her people, even if it was the wrong thing to do.

Wrong for her, perhaps. But such a choice was his entire existence.

“A queen feels both rage and compassion,” he murmured. “A just queen knows how to choose between the two.”

She smiled, her teeth covered in blood. “You think I chose correctly, then? You’re not mad?”

“How could I be angry at you?” Releasing her bloody hand, he stroked her cheek with the back of his finger. “You took their pain, Jessamine, even though it hurt you. You are the queen this kingdom deserves, and I’m sorry not all of them see it.”

She blew out a breath and watched him as he settled on the ground next to her.

He didn’t know how much she wanted him around, considering he was the reason for her death.

He should have been here, and yet, he was so weak he could not protect his own gravesinger.

But still, he placed his hand right next to hers.

Just a hairsbreadth away from touching her.

A rattle from her chest made him tense for a moment before it eased. Then her hand shifted a bit toward his, just a little, and suddenly her pinky was placed over his own. Almost as though they were holding hands.

“I know it sounds silly, but I wish you were here.” She stared up at the smoggy sky and added, “Really here.”

Should he be ashamed of the spike of anxiety and hope that tore through his chest? Perhaps this was the moment he’d been waiting for. Perhaps she would summon him into the realm now, in a desperate bid to save her own life.

“You could make that happen, you know.”

All those hopes were dashed at the sound of her laughter. The chuckle filled the cold alleyway with warmth, even though she was dying right in front of him. “And what would I unleash upon my kingdom?”

He snorted. “A true terror.”

“Malice incarnate.”

“Madness that would spread like your infected.”

“I’d forever be known as the queen who unleashed darkness upon her realm.” But she snorted after saying it, her words softened by her tone. “I don’t know what you will do if and when you get a physical form. I cannot leave my people in your powerful hands, Elric. I’m so sorry for that.”

“I expected nothing less.”

And truly, he didn’t. It was a dangerous game to play, unleashing a god. He wished he was a better man in that moment. He wished he could promise to take care of her home and her people as if they were his own.

But he wouldn’t. They both knew that.

She sighed, the breath rattling a little longer in her lungs. “So I’m really dying?”

“In a way. You’re already dead, you know.” He stroked her pinky with his. “I won’t let you die permanently. Expect much the same as the last time you died.”

“Oh, that’s good, then.”

He could hear the nerves in her voice. The unknown was always so frightening to humans.

“You’ve done this before, nightmare. Surely it’s not as scary the second time.”

That rattling wheeze came again, and the sensation of her slipping away from him. He worried that this would be too hard on her. Already, so much of her life had been too hard.

“It’s slower than the first time,” she whispered. “I can feel myself dying. There’s so much sensation to it. The cold, the feeling of sudden hunger, and also the pain of the ache disappearing. My fingers are going numb, and my lips are harder to move. I think soon I won’t be able to see.”

He hated that she had to go through this. And he hated even more that she would have to do it alone.

Rolling away from the wall, he crouched in front of her again. Elric made sure to lift her hands, pressing them one by one to his lips. “I cannot stay here much longer, Jessamine. I have to be in that realm when you die or I might miss you. And if I miss you, then you’ll actually die.”

“I thought I was already dead.”

“In a way, you are. But in many ways, you aren’t. You’re still here in this realm, aren’t you? You have a body. You have a soul. Everything about you is very much alive. If I lose you in my realm, then you’ll disappear for good and not even a god can bring you back.”

And he’d be stuck there again. Alone. No one would call upon him and no witch would threaten his life. He would never again feel mud between his toes or the sensation of a breeze tousling his hair.

Elric desperately wanted to live again. So even if it felt like he was using her, then he would use her. Because he needed his little nightmare, just as she needed him.

“So you’re… leaving me here?” Those big eyes stared up at him, and he could practically taste her fear. “To die alone?”

His heart shattered into a million pieces. He could feel the shards digging into his very soul as he whispered, “Yes.”

“Oh.”

“I will stay as long as I can.” He leaned closer, holding the back of her head and pressing their foreheads together. “But it won’t be long now.”

He could feel her slipping away. The sensation of her life, the force that tethered them together, was so weak it was almost a thread of silk. Still strong enough to hold her here, but not strong enough to keep her forever. Not when the weight of his realm tugged on the other end.

Elric stayed with her, just as he promised. He stayed until he could hear her breathing change. Until he knew that the gravesingers had called their wayward sister home, setting their inky hands on her shoulders and pulling her away from this realm. But he also knew where she would end up.

He knew, and he would find her.

Pressing his lips to her forehead, he let the warm touch linger on her skin. “I promise I will find you, nightmare. Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.” He could hear the lie in her voice, though, even as she tried so very hard to be brave. “You’ll be there. I’m certain of it.”

A warmth bloomed in his chest. Perhaps she didn’t trust him enough to summon him, but she trusted him enough to die for him.

That trust did something to him. He didn’t recognize the feeling in his chest, the strange wriggling sensation of hope and happiness that felt like a bright light had speared through his chest.

But he allowed his realm to pull him from her side, even though it shattered all the good in him to see her leaning against the wall. Alone. Dying in a gutter because he couldn’t be there with her.

She had to suffer yet again. To linger in that cold, feeling the end crawling toward her, because that wound was a slow death. She shouldn’t have to feel the ice gripping her heart or the way it would beat sluggishly for long moments before it just… stopped.

Anger burned in his chest, and it was rare that he felt like this. After all, he’d long ago given up on the righteous anger at how the witches were treated. But once upon a time, he’d pitied them for this very reason.

A witch was a reflection of her home. She held up a mirror to those who surrounded her, showing them the good and the bad that lived within them. They asked for a spell, and when it went awry, they blamed everyone but themselves.

He materialized in his realm on his hands and knees in a puddle of shadow. Guilt and anxiety quickly settled in, wrenching through his form until he was gagging into the darkness. Black vomit purged itself from him, joining the rest of his power in this endless realm of night.

She was dying.

She was dying, and he wasn’t there.

How dare he fail her like this. How dare he let the only witch who had ever cared for him fall into death’s embrace.

It was a loss for her entire realm. The second time as it had been the first. She should never have to suffer like this. And it was his fault that she had.

But he couldn’t wallow in self-pity. There was still a chance he could help her, and he intended to do so. Elric staggered to his feet, breathing hard and trying his best to pull himself together. For her. For this realm. Because the two of them still had work to do.

He started off into the darkness, certain he would find her. He had the first time.

And he would a thousand times over.