Page 115 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain

The food arrives and Cescily loads a large piece of pita bread with creamy dip. I shake my head, but she gives me a sharp stare of insistence.

“Your spiraling is only exacerbated by your refusal to accept your mate’s comfort.” I open my mouth to argue, and Cescily raises her hands, as if in surrender. “I know. This is not me trying to convince you to run to Alec with open arms. I’m not saying you need to go complete your mating. I’m only saying, let him be there for you.”

My chair scrapes as I push to my feet to leave.

“Sit the fuck down, Elly.” Cescily’s tone is stern and commanding

I sway and plop back down on the seat, utterly deflated.

“I’m not afraid to make you angry or hurt your feelings,” she tells me seriously. “Your restlessness will continue to grow the longer you deny his comfort, the longer you deny yourself comfortinghim. Let yourself heal. Alec loves you—and you once loved him dearly. If that love is truly no longer there for you anymore, we will deal with that later. But right now, you need to face your feelings because you are drowning in them.”

I avert my eyes to the floor as my throat constricts.

“What if I want to drown?” I ask quietly.

A tear escapes Cescily’s eye. She lets it slide down her cheek while she grabs my hand in both of hers. “I understand that right now you may want to drown because it seems easier. But I beg you, reach out to the hands that want to pull you back above the water when you want to sink. There are so many.”

With a shuddering sob, I break. My fragile resolve finally cracks under the weight of my self hatred.

“What can we do for you, Elly? Where do you want to start?” she asks softly.

My head shakes with jerky movement as I admit, “I don’t know. I don’t know where to start.”

Cescily nods at me encouragingly. “Would it be easier for you to talk to someone completely removed from the situation? It can be hard for us, who know you and Alec both so well and love you so dearly. No one knows if those memories of him will return to you but I hope they do. Not for Alec, but for you. What Locane did is unheard of.”

I take a dry bite of pita bread just for something to do with my hands.

“There’s a woman in the Healer’s district I used to talk to. I struggled as a girl, not having my father. Would you like me to putyou in contact? Or we could find someone else.” I hiccup and nod. Cescily smiles and squeezes my hand. “I’m glad to hear that. Is any part of you lighter after this conversation?”

And surprisingly, I am. A sudden weightlessness is lifting me up, pulling me from the depths of darkness I’ve been trying to hide in.

“Yes. A little bit,” I admit.

“Good. Now, I think you’re plenty drunk. Let’s go do something else,” she suggests, and I agree.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

ELLYA

We walk through the Vahnsing District for the next hour.

Cescily points out different extravagant homes and tells me the dirty family secrets of those who live there. We laugh uninhibited at the ridiculous stories. I don’t remember the last time I really laughed and my sides ache from the use of neglected muscles. I’m still decently drunk, my head swimming and limbs heavy, despite the scones and coffee Cescily grabbed for us shortly after leaving the wine bar.

“That one right there, the Lihnser family lives there. Aldros Lihnser’s father died during the Culling and he married his stepmother Mischa right after. They had been having an affair for decades. Everyone knew. They didn’t even try to hide it.”

“No way! That’s disgusting!” I cringe.

“Yes, it is. Rumor is that Aldros and Mischa killed him. That they had been wanting to get rid of him for a while. Then his father’s generation started dying off, and they seized that opportunity to murder him and used the cover of the Culling.”

My mouth drops open in shock at the juicy gossip. “How did he die?”

“He was found dead in a pool of his own blood at the foot of the stairs in that exact house.” Cescily shrugs. “Say that he fell.”

We come by an ornate brownstone mansion that appears empty. There are no decorative lamps on the porch like the surrounding houses or decor of any kind. The garden is kept but bare, and there are no lights on inside. A lifeless husk nestled between extravagant homes that inexplicably calls to me.

Cescily glances at it and quickly averts her eyes.

“That one almost looks abandoned. There must be a good story there,” I say pointing to the house.