Page 184 of The Ember that Tethers

“If you say so. It seems to have worked on you.” He kissed her then, but not like before. Long and slow and languid, this kiss melted her. Her arms wound around his neck, drew him closer, and she wasn’t sure why, but tears welled and spilled down her cheeks and she couldn’t stop them.

He held her face and murmured, “It’s okay to cry. You’re allowed. But don’t lie and tell me you’re alright when you’re not. And I’ll do the same.” He pulled back and whispered, “Deal?”

Her bottom lip wobbled as he wiped away her tears the way she wished he would the night he’d given her his crystal, like he’d only now given himself permission to do so.

And maybe it was that empty chasm finally unhinging and yawning open for someone else to see, the loss of her memories, Shade, the dismal looming future, her brush with death, among other things, but she spilled the truth that’d festered inside her all this time. “I—I want you…” Her breath caught on a sob, but she continued, “I wish you could fix me, Dez.”

He froze, her face still cupped in his hands. “Is that what tonight was?”

She shrugged and rubbed her eyes as shame prickled her skin.

“Oh, Em. Come here.” He pulled her to his chest and held her as her body shook with each sob. His familiar smell did something to her. Shattered something inside her and stuffed some need she’d been denying in its place. Because it was the so-called monster, the murderer, the cruel king, who had shown her the greatest and fullest kindness.

And gods, it wasdestroyingher.

Maybe, like his thorns, her magic, herShadowheart, had broken her down and remade her, too. Cracked her open and revealed the insidious reality of what existed inside. And now that it lay spread out, unable to pack it back into the case it came, she couldn’t unsee it.

But Dez said softly, “You don’t need me to fix you, Emmery. You’re not broken. In fact, you’re the one fixing me.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

EMMERY

With a love-drunk smile on her face, Emmery woke before the sun, wrapped in Destonne’s arms, their legs tangled, and his warm, even breath on the nape of her neck. She wiggled against him, sinking deeper into the embrace, until the sweet, violet haze of sleep dissipated. But even as shame leached away her euphoria, she lay there and watched him sleep. She couldn’t help herself.

As the previous night’s events ran through her head, need stirred inside her, and though she debated waking him and giving in, she sighed and wormed out of his embrace. He’d likely forget about this night soon, just as she would.

Her face fell when she caught sight of the iron headboard, specifically the bars bent in the unmistakable shape ofherfingers.

Good gods. Never mind his eidetic memory, there was no forgetting that.

She searched under her pillow and retrieved her vial, eager to slip away while darkness still blanketed the room, when her toe snagged on something protruding from under the bed. She silently cursed Dez for his godsdamn mess of a room. Frowning, she picked up a copy ofMagician’s Folly, the last book she’d borrowed from his library, and strolled to his chest of drawers. She set it down beside a neat stack of envelopes and thumbed through it while she twiddled the vial between two fingers.

That’s when she noticed strange red etchings scratched into the side of her hand, like she’d taken a butter knife to it. Another scar to add to her collection.

“Where are you off to so early?” Destonne’s voice, husky with sleep, simultaneously spurred heat in her belly and made her jump. She slammed the book shut, spun, and tucked the vial behind her back.

Emmery smiled innocently, as if she hadn’t been snooping. “Nowhere. Doing some … light reading.”

“Liar.” A lazy smirk tugged at his mouth. “You were sneaking out after taking advantage of me last night. I’m young and impressionable, you know.”

A laugh sputtered from her. “Vera da mieste.”

Then it was his turn to laugh. “Your pronunciation could use some work, but that was better.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, before he carefully ran a hand through his hair, as devastatingly handsome as always. “So, you weren’t trying to escape before the sun was up? Possibly to run from what we did last night.”

“Of course not.” She tucked the vial into the waistband of her shorts and drew her tunic overtop. “That would be absurd and childish.” She swallowed and added, “It would imply I’m avoiding you. Whichclearly,I’m not.”

“Clearly,” Dez repeated, his eyes twinkling. His attention slid to the stack of letters on the chest of drawers. “If you didn’t know, those are for you.”

Her brows drew together as she plucked one off the top of the pile, cracked the wax seal, and read the first few lines in the writing that had saved her all those months ago.

She set the letter down as tears burned her throat. The bastard knew writing to her would spear into her heart. The dozens of letters each had her name printed in the same scrawl, and from the misspelled words and the doodle of her and Juno, she knewthey were from him before she saw the signature at the bottom. “They’re from Vesper. He's in Morana.”

Dez narrowed his eyes at the letters. “Morana? Hmmm.”

She ignored him as she picked up another letter. Her eyes skimmed the lines and took in the situation in the north, and the bloodlace.

She ripped into another. Then another. He wrote of how the Council planned to take his home away, his plan to bring Izzy back, how he wished Emmery was well, how he cared for her, his dedication to make things right, and that even though he couldn’t take it back, his devotion would never waver.