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“Apex?”
The little furrow that had formed between her brows melded with the shadows cast by the dim lighting, creating golden accents across her cheeks and nose. Lucky bastard that he was, he wanted to grin for all the beauty locked away in this room with him. For every sparkling smile she gifted him, a thousand had lived in his memories. He’d called upon every one of them over the past few days, when he’d slashed his fury at the stones and screamed his release into a sky he’d soon no longer recognize.
“Charmers are demons born of the shadow realm. They can make themselves appear like mortals and act accordingly. They’re animals like any other beast, really. They can eat, sleep, have sex, and otherwise assimilate seamlessly into the human race once the sun goes down. There are three classes: mystic, elite, and apex.”
“Let me guess,” she cut in. “Apex are the really bad guys?”
He cast her a sidelong look. “The really, really bad guys. It’s what you get when you pool all the dark magic practices of a mystic with all the brutal combat training of an elite. They excel at everything, are incredibly hard to kill, and are particularly adept at snuffing out mortal souls. Cyro, the demon ruler, truly broke the mold when he made those assholes.”
The shiver that reverberated through Molly’s hand made him wonder just how much truth he should share regarding the origins of his curse. When she sidled closer to him on the couch and the warmth of her thigh began seeping into his, he made his decision.
Like it was ever yours to make?
He’d share it all.
Around him, the shelves of books faded to the barren, snowy birch forests of his memory. “An unusual number of people from a local tribe had been dying unexpectedly. Children, women, elders, you name it. It didn’t take long to figure out the deaths weren’t natural and who was causing them.” Brass leaned into the warmth of Molly’s presence, using it as an anchor against a storm he was loath to relive.
“I found the apex responsible and tracked him to a farmer’s cottage at the edge of the forest, not far from where the cliffs abraded the sea coast. At first, I thought the poor structure was abandoned. It was the first day of winter, and the small hovel hadn’t had much to speak of in terms of fortifications. No smoke from a heat source, no livestock, no barrels of grain, nothing to suggest it was inhabited by a mortal. So, I attacked.”
“Was he there? The apex?”
Brass’s fire simmered beneath his skin. “Yes. When I ambushed him, I swarmed in on a tide of fury and rage, intending to end it quickly. I scorched everything in that cottage with my angel fire, including the demon. Unfortunately, he had not been alone. Ragana was there and, as she is a being of the elements, was quite immune to my flames.”
Haunted images rose from the depths of his mind, choking off his resolve. Then he forced his power into his words, willing them to recount what his entire being balked against. “In my haze of power, my flames swept through the cottage and left nothing behind. I hadn’t truly comprehended all I was destroying at the time. As a result, I had . . . taken something of hers. Stolen something precious and impossible to return.” He shook his head against dark memories. “Once she’d realized what I’d done, her wail was terrifying and anguished beyond imagination. Even as a sentinel, it froze me where I stood, and that was when I knew . . .”
A soft breath hitched in Molly’s throat as she saw the road down which his tale would soon take them.
“Her judgment was handled swiftly after that. She cursed me, trapping the very wrath that allowed me to burn down the cottage inside me for two thousand winters as retribution. If she had to endure the agony of what she’d lost, then so would I.”
“The winter solstice,” Molly confirmed. “So, that’s when it all . . .”
“Yes.”
“And those flare-ups? All those times I’ve seen your eyes change?”
He swallowed hard. “I’m losing control. Every day closer to my final one brings with it a thinner tether with which to secure my sanity, along with my rage. It’s like trying to lash down a bucking bull with a piece of dental floss. There is no stopping it, no slowing the freight train I’m tied to the tracks in front of. Except, then you come along, and every time you spear me with those chocolate eyes of yours, that rage is strapped right back down and held tighter than before. I can fucking breathe again and have a few hours where every thought isn’t weighted down with who I need to protect from myself in that moment.”
“Not me,” she whispered as she took his face in his hands. “You don’t have to protect me from you. All you need to do is be honest and tell me what you need. If I can help, I will.”
He stalled and stilled his touch against her.
“If you can help . . .” he enunciated slowly, turning the words over on his tongue.
Had she really just said that? And more to the point, was he that much of a bastard that he’d allow himself to even entertain the idea? Because he was more than happy to provide her with a list that started and ended with her. There was such little time left, and she was just so . . . so . . .
And then her hands were on his chest, pushing him back against the cushions. Caught off guard, he went down faster than a felled tree and burned where the imprint of her palms remained above his heart.
“Molly,” he warned. “You don’t know what you’re asking?—”
“I’m not asking. I’m done asking. I want this, and if I can ease your suffering, even for one night, I want to.”
“I don’t need your fucking pity,” he ground out. “I won’t have it, not from my brothers, and mages dammit, never from you, do you hear me?”
“Good,” she challenged him. “Because I’m not giving it to you.” She lifted a sleek eyebrow in response. “Besides, did you ever stop to think about what this day has been like for me? You’re not the only one with a temper, and you’re sure as hell not the only one who’s been holding it together with nothing more than a force of will that’s been running on empty for the past few months.” Then she shifted her legs around so they straddled his calves. A safe distance away but still way too intentional with their suggestion. “I want this, for both of us. Do you?”
Danger lurked in her offer. She’d asked for honesty, and he thought he’d given as much as he could in that regard.
How fucking wrong he was.
