Page 173 of Till Death

“True,” he said, tugging me away. “How’s your back?”

“Healed, I think. Using that much power, though… I’ll probably need to sleep for a week.”

He squeezed my hand gently as we walked back toward the castle. “You can have your week, Nightmare. We have an eternity now.”

But then I thought of Paesha. Of her vow to return to Quill, and I wondered if she still wanted that, and if she did, how she was going to say goodbye to Ezra, and how we’d find a way back. My heart ached for her. For the dancer that mourned on the rooftop.

The look of relief on both of their moonlit faces as we made it back to the castle might’ve been welcoming, had there not been a crowd of souls standing behind them, all eyes locked on Orin and me, each one eager for answers and comfort. One moment, I was staring at Paesha and Ezra, the next, they were swallowed by the crowd that rushed for us.

Before we were crushed by people eager to have my promise to them fulfilled, Orin pulled me flush to his side and enveloped us in shadows that were fully his now. We appeared in the same bedroom as before, though the candles had long since melted onto the floor, nothing more than piles of wax.

“Someday, we will explore this castle together, but for now, rest.”

“They won’t wait and they shouldn’t have to,” I warned, stifling another yawn as the exhaustion from magic threatened to end me. “And do we know the ramifications of holding Death’s court, your court, I guess, with no one here?”

He held the sides of my face tenderly, closing his dark eyes as another rush of shadows swirled around us both. They sent a wave of heat over my skin as his lips brushed mine. “We have forever, Deyanira. There’s no rush.”

With the retreat of his power, I’d been fully cleaned, the tattered dress replaced with loose pants and an oversized shirt that smelled an awful lot like him.

“I’ve been in this court for exactly a day longer than you have. I know almost nothing. Sleep, my love. We can figure it out tomorrow. I’ll go talk to them.”

“And Ezra and Paesha. And Hollis. And oh, his wife…”

My eyelids grew heavy as he led me to the bed.

“I will find them.”

The bed dipped, and Orin wrapped his arm around me sometime hours and hours later. I could have stayed there for a long time, but with each passing moment, even in sleep, I could see their faces. A fraction of the crowd that’d haunted my dreams for so long had done so again, their heavy voices begging me to set them free from the prison I’d damned them to.

And so, I woke, not to sunlight pouring in, but to the steady, silvery moonlight brushing against Orin’s sharp jaw, the pout of his lips, and the rise and fall of his chest. He survived. And he was mine, and that was enough to soothe my tender soul.

“This is eternity,” he whispered, the heavy notes of sleep rattling his words. “We could just stay in this bed forever.”

“Only if we bar the doors and don’t mind a riot.”

He groaned, wiping a heavy hand down his face. “I’m just a cellist. A performer. I’m not meant to rule a realm or punish people. I can feel the darkness, though. It’s like a weight. A burden, but not.”

“A duty?”

He nodded, staring into the shadows of the room.

I brushed the dark strands of his hair from his eyes and kissed him. “I am with you, even in the darkness.”

“Are you with me in annoyance, too? Because we’re about to be interrupted by Ezra.”

“The shadows tell you that?”

“Apparently.”

Three solid knocks sounded on the door.

“Go away,” he roared, pulling me on top of him.

“The next time we climb into this bed, I’ll do unspeakable things to you, Husband. But for now, we have to get up.”

“Unspeakable?” He lifted a brow. “What could my wife possibly find so scandalous she wouldn’t speak it aloud?”

“Hmm. That’s a good point. Likely nothing. But maybe I’ll ask around for some pointers.”