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Goddess, my head hurts. What on earth did I drink last night? I groan and try to rub my temple but something heavy is draped over my chest. I grin, despite myself, recognizing Ashe’s scent. When he sleeps, he might as well be a boulder rather than a vampire. If my head hurts this badly and he’s out, no doubt that means Rhys and Ezra convinced us to do something crazy.
I pry open my eyes, squinting against the pale light only to immediately frown. I don’t recognize the ceiling. This isn’t our cottage. In fact, the plush bed under me is too soft to be the featherdown mattress Ambrose gifted us for our wedding.
“Cassandra,” a soft familiar voice whispers my name, and I crane my neck to the right to find the speaker.
“What—” I croak out the question and Josephine shushes me before bringing a glass with a straw to my lips. I gulp down the tepid water eagerly before pulling away and trying again. “What happened? Where are we?”
Ashe still hasn’t moved, a dead weight against me pinning me flat on my back. I can just make out Josephine’s golden eyes in the shadows, and they’re filled with concern.
“How much do you remember?” she asks and my brows furrows deeper.
What I remember. . . I try to think, the pounding in my head yet to lessen. I wrestle my arm from under Ashe’s embrace and freeze as I see manicured nails filed into sharp points. With a gasp, memories flood my mind like hurricane waves barreling into a city.
The last hundred and fifty years of sharing my mind and body with Eris returns. More importantly, I remember Eris facing the archangel Aeternaphiel and her essence being sucked from me. I remember the pain as she dug her metaphysical claws into my own essence to hold on. I remember the mind-splitting pain as the angelic blade sliced through the revealed shadow form of Eris. It was as if the blade had tried to siphon my insides, sucking my very being from my body.
Except Ashe had defended me, pushing Aeternaphiel far enough back that the blade only struck Eris.
I struggle upwards, Josephine quickly helping shift Ashe’s arm, until I’m sitting up against a gray headboard. I look down at my husband, but I don’t have the enhanced eyesight that vampires do.
“Is he?” I can’t finish the question, my eyes never leaving his relaxed face.
“He’ll be okay,” Josephine answers, moving his arm until it’s draped over my lap and adjusting the plush blanket until Ashe is tucked back in. Josephine’s fussing brings a small smile to my lips. Things change over time, but Josephine’s need to fuss and take care of those around her never will.
“And you?”
Her question has my vision unfocusing as I search for Eris within me. I’ve never woken with full control of my body, so for her to not be shouting in my mind is concerning. Josephine is quiet while I search the recesses of my mind. It’s as if I’m walking through an empty home, knowing someone is missing but not knowing where they went.
I search deeper, drawing on my experience as a witch to dive into the depths of my being. I cry out, Josephine’s hands bracing my upper arms and I cling to her for support. If I’d been standing, I’m certain my knees would have given out.
“Cassandra?” The matronly vampire’s voice is insistent.
“Something—something is wrong with Eris.” I pry my eyes open and meet Josephine’s worried gaze. “She’s—” A gag cuts my words off and I turn to the side but nothing comes up. My stomach cramps as I heave again, my insides cramping as fire fills my stomach.
Strong hands grip my shoulders, an achingly familiar weight presses against my back. Ashe slides an arm around my chest, offering me a brace as my body struggles.
“I’ve got you.” The steady tenor of his voice wraps around me like a warm blanket on a winter night. I grip his arm with one hand, anchoring myself to him while I’m tossed about in a torrent of pain.
“Ashe,” I say when the pain finally retreats into the depths of my being.
“I’m here,” he says again, with such heartbreaking tenderness tears slip down my cheeks. I turn my head towards him and then he’s lifting and moving me until I’m cradled against his chest. He rubs my back and I tuck my head under his chin. “Do you know what’s happening?”
Rigors shake my body, and he holds me tighter while I grip his white shirt in a tight fist, riding it out.
“Something is wrong with Eris,” I manage to say. “With me.”
Ashe is quiet for a long moment, and I focus on his slow heartbeat under my ear. If I can keep focused on the sound, the sheer wrongness at my core won’t drag me under.
“What do you need?” he asks at last, his trust in me undeserving. Not after what I’d done. Guilt threatens to overwhelm me just as quickly as the pain and I grit my teeth, forcing my thoughts to clear. I think about everything I’d learned as a witch, then everything I’d seen while Eris possessed and controlled my body.
I find Josephine, now standing at the edge of the bed. “I need a sachet of lavender, salt, St. John’s Wort, and white sage if you have it.”
Josephine gives me a firm nod before hurrying from the room. I let out a breath as the pain continues to fade, wilting against Ashe.
Ashe. My husband. My mate. The man I’ve spent over a century and a half locked away from by my own decision. A decision that I’d make again and again, as long as it saved his life.
“Cassandra,” he murmurs. “Tell me what’s going on. Where’s Eris?” A growl rumbles from his chest and through me. “I remember that bastard trying to stab you with a sword, but I got to him before he could. You still went down, though.” His arms tighten around me, his fingers digging into me as fear colors his words. “Then they took me down. I had to wake up with Malachi’s damn face in mine.”
Ashe tries for levity and while it falls flat, my lips curve in a sad smile. I match his tone; I don’t have the energy to deal with the threat growing deep inside.
