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"Familiars are supposed to be a manifestation of your soul, aren't they?" Morrow says, eyes locked on Shadow's rapidly shrinking figure. "In what realm would Viola be a rabbit?"
"When you put it that way, a seps makes a lot of sense," Mace says teasingly, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. Shadow, back to his normal size, slithers up my leg and wraps himself around my neck, tightening in his own version of a hug and resting his head on my sternum in the middle of the sunfire.
"I suppose it's time for me to go," I say, looking at the three of them. My eyes drift to Tulip and Morrow's clasped hands. "And when I get back, we're going to talk about how massive battles are not appropriate times to express your affections for the first time."
Tulip flushes deeply, and Morrow puffs his chest out. "I will not apologize for kissing my wife."
"I'm not your wife," she says, but all of the protest is gone.
"That's not what you said when you were slaughtering the beast that injured me. I believe the exact word you used was 'husband.'"
Tulip attempts to sputter out a response but I don't let her, pulling her into an embrace. "I love you, Tulip," I say quietly.
"Be safe, Lola."
Morrow claps me on my shoulder and rumbles good wishes beforeMace spins me to him and surprises me with a deep kiss on my lips.
"You act like I'm going off to war," I mumble against his soft mouth.
"You are," he says. "A war against a single God is still a war." He wraps his arms around my lower back and pulls me flush on his body, pouring emotions into me from every point of contact. So many words and feelings pass between us unsaid: love and lust, fear and pride, loss and growth.
I feel his essence, everything that makes Mace, Mace, swirling with my own, knitting into my soul and my very being, becoming as much a part of me as my magic. Every struggle, every tear, every declaration that has ever passed between us sparks beneath my skin, bolstering me with the most pure form of devotion.
"Do you believe in fate?" I ask him softly, my arms wrapped around his sleek, lithe body. "That we were fated to be here?"
"No," he says, and I feel his smile in my hair where he rests his head. "You know that I don't."
"I know," I say with a laugh, my nose in the crook of his neck. "Then why does it feel like we were always going to end up here?"
"I don't believe in love at first sight. I don't believe in a grand machination that puts us together. I mean, you're the God now. Wouldn't it be you putting people together?"
Laughing, I shake my head. "I don't think I can do that."
"Exactly. What we have is different. It is a decision we wake up and make each day. This life is messy, my numen. Nothing we do iseasy or straightforward. But my love for you is. My love for you is the most uncomplicated thing I have. That's not to say loving you is easy," Mace laughs, shaking his head. "In fact, it's the exact opposite. You're a pain in the ass, Viola. And yet, my love for you flows easily through my veins, and I never question it. There is never a moment when I do not love you."
"I never wanted to be loved," I say quietly. "After losing Link, after my parents abandoned me, I saw it as an unnecessary weakness that could be exploited. That would hold me back. I always assumed I would consider finding it when I made it to Ytopie."
"Technically, you did," he chuckles.
"That's true," I respond, pulling away from his chest to look up into his eyes. "Fuck, Mace, you made me want to love. You snuck up on me, and I didn't see it coming. And through every insane twist and turn it took for us to get right here, standing in this spot, even when we were at odds, I still knew that I would always love you." I cup his face with my hand, locking my gaze with his shining green eyes, memorizing the flecks of gold around his pupils, the angle of the corners, and the fluttering of his lashes. "If I don't come back…"
"Shut up, numen," he says, cutting me off with a passionate kiss. "That is not a conversation I am willing to entertain with you, and if this affection you are pouring out is just because you think you will not return to me, then we are done talking. Because there is not a realm where you and I are not together. Through thousands of lifetimes, through every realm, into the hereafter and the veil between, you and I will findone another. We will never say goodbye because every ending we have is another chance to find and love one another all over again. I have loved you for an infinite number of lifetimes, and I will love you for an unending amount more."
"I was just going to say if I don't come back tonight, come after me because I probably ran out of magic, but okay." I bite my lip to keep from chuckling as he throws his head back with a loud laugh. His cheeks are still hollow, and the bags under his eyes are still prominent despite an afternoon nap, the grief from the loss of his brother so fresh and obvious that his body physically holds it, but in that brief moment, he looks youthful and unburdened.
"Go kill a God, numen." I turn to speak to Morrow and Tulip and realize they must have snuck off at some point during the intimate conversation Mace and I had. With one final kiss, I step away from Mace and call my shadows to me, my eyes closed, picturing the place Tulip and I lived under the Palace of the Patricians when we first got to Ytopie.
Chapter 48
Viola
Dishes are still piled all over, and clothing is scattered from end to end. The place I once lived in is a mess, a physical manifestation of the chaos that lives within Himureal's mind. The grid buzzes like an annoying insect flying around my head. Himureal clearly isn't here, so I head up the familiar stairs to the main level of the Palace.
When I reach the top of the stairs, I call upon Shadow, Light, Yearning, and Influence magic, combining it all within me into a surprising weapon. I feel the Illusion settle on me, hiding the weapons on my thighs and the deception in my heart and mind.
Before I left, Cirrha told me that he spends most of his time holding court in the ballroom where the gala was held, so I decided to check that first. The Palace is hauntingly empty, and my path crosses with no others as I sneak through it.
I fling open the double doors to the ballroom, and the smell of old, dried blood assaults me and almost brings me to my knees. The beautiful marble floors are marred by the caked lifeforce that coats it. A throne sits in the front of the room, bathed in blood and gore. The room is empty, and in the dark, the shadows that reside in the corners tell the truth about thehorrors that have unfolded in this room.
