Page 151 of May: Bloom & Bane

His fangs press close enough to pierce flesh.

Tellian makes a choked sound as a thin crimson line of blood trails down his throat.

Arteus’s fangs weep venom, each drop hissing where it lands on Tellian’s perfect, unmarred skin.

“Arteus,” I say quietly.

Another drop falls, rolling down Tellian’s neck.

Tellian’s hands scramble uselessly against his scales.

“Arteus,” I say again, firmer this time. “Enough.”

His golden eyes flick to mine, pupils so thin that they have almost disappeared.

“He crosssed the line.”

“I know,” I say. “And he knowsss it too now. Look at him.”

Tellian’s face has gone the mottled violet of a bruise, the words beneath his skin flickering frantically.

“We need him,” I add. “For Sage… for her.”

Arteus holds for one more agonizing second before he finally retracts his fangs with a slick hiss.

He uncoils slowly, letting every scale drag across Tellian’s throat on the way off.

When he finally releases Tellian, he collapses, struggling to get in enough air.

Arteus dips down to eye level. “I am ssstarting to think you like being tied up, Tellian. If that isss the cassse, you need only assssk.”

I study him, my brilliant brother searching through infinite knowledge for answers that refuse to be found. Just like me. And yet, I feel no guilt. In ten thousand years, some things remain sacred, and he chose to trample the only one I have left.

“Keep searching.”

Arteus coils back around my shoulders.

“Kaesssh,” he hisses one last time.

I turn and leave Tellian’s library the same way I entered it: empty-handed and running out of time.

The meadow is quiet when I return.

Sage and Ashán are inside the house, Eden curled against them, sleeping peacefully.

They have no idea what is coming.

I watch the steady rise and fall of their chests, my elauvhe dim so it does not wake them. The house is thick with the scent of peonies, cucumber, and the honeyed edge of the altheria‡. The life-bloom that only appears when conception is inevitable. By the end of Sage’s rut, they will be carrying an innocent soul I cannot promise will not be reaped to Aevhørath before it is able to take its first breath.

CHAPTER 42

your body sang for us

—SAGE

Open your eyes. Now! Ashán shouts in my mind.

I wake slowly. It’s barely dawn, and Nook has drawn the curtains, so the room is still bathed in darkness. Soft puffs of Eden’s breath tickle my throat.