All the Sacrifice of Shadows (Starstorm #2)

Chapter 32

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

D rake stared in awe of Creslyn, of the sheer magnitude of her.

When she spun around to face him with those sapphire eyes so dark of a blue they were nearly black, he almost didn’t recognize her. Firelight danced off her features, highlighting the planes of her furious face. He could barely make out the smattering of freckles across her nose, the ones that reminded him of a dusting of constellations, because the dwindling embers cast half of her in shadows. A tiny line of rage creased her brow, her lips were pressed into a hard line of resolution, and her hair—gods, her hair— he wanted to fist it in his hands.

Gone were the waves of silver, they’d been replaced by strands of midnight silk. And those ribbons of pale blue, cool pink, and lavender seemed to glow, banishing the night.

He reached out to touch her hair, curious if it would feel the same as before.

Creslyn jerked back, away from him. Her chest heaved, her burning fury simmering down the bond between them.

“Kearsta— ”

“No.” She lifted her chin, her jaw set in challenge. “I am not your kearsta. Or your solysa . And I am most certainly not your sjellhert .”

She spoke each word with such loathing, leaving him captivated by her. She had mimicked his accent so perfectly that a spear of lust shot straight to his groin, and his lips twitched in amusement.

“Creslyn,” he tried again, careful not to provoke her. He knew she was seething and hostile, knew it was entirely his fault, but she was also crestfallen. He’d broken her heart, the one that bled for him, and now he was left to pick up all the jagged pieces, hoping they would fit back together. “I must tell you?—”

“Do not speak to me. Do not look at me.”

He moved closer, just a step, and a gust of chilly wind blew her hair behind her. It was then he saw her shoulder, the skin raw and pink. Burnt yet healing. Vengeance consumed him and he bared his teeth. He would kill whoever was responsible, but he’d watched Zaleria die by Creslyn’s hand, and his desire for retribution ebbed. Unsure if he should be proud or offer her some form of comfort after taking her first life, he reached for her again.

“You’re hurt.”

She threw up one hand, halting him. “Do not touch me.”

His gaze dipped to her bare finger, the lust he felt earlier cooling instantly. Something cold and frigid settled deep in his gut, freezing him from the inside out. A sickening sensation roiled in his stomach like hot acid. His chest was hollow. Gaping and empty. Perhaps Creslyn had already carved out his heart.

“Where is your ring?” he demanded.

She lifted her injured shoulder, then let it fall, dismissing him. “I must have lost it.”

“Do not lie to me.” He had no right to lose his temper with her, but his own guilt was sending him into a spiral of unfathomable turmoil. Seeing her without his ring was tragic proof of how deeply he’d wounded her. It was like being caught at sea in the midst of a violent storm. She was the steadfast shore, and she was disappearing beyond the horizon.

He wouldn’t be able to reach her.

“I will do as I please! I owe you nothing . Not after what you did to me.” Creslyn wrapped her arms around herself, her windswept hair lashing around her. “Every choice you make defines you, does it not? I believe those were your exact words.”

She stalked past him, and though he knew he might suffer for it, he grabbed her arm to stop her, dragging her toward him. Resentment flashed in her indigo eyes. She fought to break free of his hold, but he refused to release her.

“Creslyn, please hear me out.” He needed her to listen. He was never one to ask for forgiveness, it wasn’t in his nature. Yet he needed her to understand. To hear him. To see him. To believe him. “I am not what I thought. I regretted leaving you the moment I walked away.”

“Your regret is not enough for me,” she spat.

“Damn it, Cres!” He captured both of her arms, pulling her flush against him so her feet dangled off the ground. “Will you let me speak?”

“No.” Her tone was severe, but there was a quiver. And he didn’t miss the way her bottom lip trembled before she bit it hard. “Nothing you could possibly say is of any interest to me. I warned you, Drake. I told you that if you broke my heart, I would break yours in return. You made your choice, and now you must live with the consequences.”

She kicked in an effort to free herself, the toe of her boot hitting him directly in the shin.

“Fuck.” His hold loosened, and she wrenched herself free from his grasp. She stomped through the bogs, and he bolted after her.

“Creslyn, wait!” He lunged for her once more. “I cannot!”

She turned to face him abruptly, and in the fading embers of the fire, he saw the full devastation of what he’d done. Damp lashes. Flushed, tear-stained cheeks. Eyes that reflected so much sorrow, so much grief, he wasn’t sure he would ever feel the warmth of them again. Worse than all of that was the bond.

All her emotions thundered into him, stealing his breath.

Drake had done more than break her heart.

He’d fractured her soul.

“You cannot what ?” Each word dripped with bitterness.

“I…” Pinpricks of panic prodded along his neck. “I cannot live without you.”

Creslyn stared up at him for one solid minute, and as those seconds gradually ticked by, he thought his declaration had been enough. Until she spoke.

“Then perhaps you should have thought of that before you abandoned me in the bogs.” The stinging wind howled around them, and though she shivered from the cold, the look she gave him was full of so much fire, she could start an inferno if she so dared. “Though I suppose I should thank you for it. Your betrayal pushed me to finally accept who I am, which is what you’ve always wanted. Unfortunately for you, it’s too late.”

Drake stood there as she walked away, each step she took driving a blade of desperation right into his useless heart.

Mine.

No, he would not let her leave. She was his fucking wife, bound to him through blood. He may have made a damning mistake, but she belonged to him. Whether she liked it or not.

He ran after her, catching her by the hand, forcing her to face him. There was a sheen in her eyes, but the tears no longer fell. And the bond shuddered in warning.

“Creslyn. Forgive me. I will do anything you ask of me. Anything to prove how sorry I am for walking away from you. For leaving you.”

Because he was sorry.

Drake had plenty of fucking power, the only thing he was missing now, the one thing he needed, was her.

“It is too late for apologies, Drake. I never should have claimed you as my mate.” She shook her head, glancing down at the sodden earth. When her gaze lifted, it was empty. Every emotion had been buried away. She’d locked him out. “I prayed to any god or goddess who would listen as you walked away from me. Begged them to make you see , to make you realize there was goodness in you. I should have known my love would never be enough to save you. It will be the greatest regret in my life that I so foolishly bound myself to a monster.”

“I am not a monster!” Drake roared, and she startled, her lashes fluttering back. He snared her by the waist, hauling her close, then grabbed her chin so she had no choice but to hold his gaze, to see the truth in every word. “I am Cian, the god of shadow and prophecy. Born of Aed, god of death. And Liadan, goddess of rites. I was hidden away in the shadow realm by my mother, and the Ancient Ones took her from my father as punishment.”

Creslyn didn’t even blink.

“I am not…” He swallowed hard, took a steadying breath. “I am not a monster.”

Surely that would be enough. His admittance, his apology, his willingness to do whatever possible to piece together her heart, to have it belong to him once more, would be enough.

In the penetrating darkness of the bogs, with nothing more than shafts of diluted moonlight to see, Drake witnessed Creslyn’s eyes soften.

But every muscle in her body tensed in his arms.

Her voice was a hoarse whisper in the frigid night air. “Lucky for you, a god has no need for a wife.”

“Creslyn!” Drake shouted her name like a curse. He threw his arms wide, letting her go, and she stumbled back a step.

“No! You ruined me! My heart beats solely for you. I would bleed and die for you, yet you showed no remorse as I screamed for you to choose me.” She shoved him then, hard, and though he swayed, he didn’t lose his footing. Her finger jabbed him squarely in the chest, and the erratic beating of her heart echoed in his ears. “You truly want my forgiveness, Drake?”

The space between them was growing colder. Thinner.

She was slipping between his fingers.

He never thought to lose her forever.

“Yes.” Drake nodded once. Knowing this would be his moment, the only chance she would ever offer him for redemption. “More than anything in this life.”

“On your knees, god of shadow and prophecy.” The way his title rolled off her tongue was like sin and stardust. “And grovel for it.”

Drake did not hesitate.

He dropped to his knees upon the miry ground, resting both of his hands on her waist, and gazed up at the feral beauty before him.

“I will never forgive myself for the choice I made here tonight. And you are right, an apology will never be enough. My remorse will haunt me for the remainder of my life because I yearn for you, ache for you, every hour of every day. My soul is restless when you are not near.” He slowly reached for her arms, letting his hands glide down the length of her leathers until he captured her hands. He placed a kiss upon each of her knuckles. “You are a sea in which I would gladly drown, a storm I would let destroy me until there was nothing left. When I am with you, I remember what it means to live, to feel. You are my eternal breath. Through shadows and sunlight, prophecies and fate, all I want, all I long for, is you.”

A single tear rolled down Creslyn’s cheek, like a drop of moonlight, but Drake didn’t dare move to catch it.

“You have my forgiveness.” There was a catch in her voice, the slightest of tremors. “But you do not have my trust.”

Drake rose, squeezing her hands in his grasp. “Then I will earn it.”

Moments of tense silence spread between them as they stared at one another. His movements slow and precise, Drake ran his fingers through her silken strands of midnight, marveling at her transformation once more. “I like your hair.”

Creslyn huffed out a breath. “Now is not the time for flattery, husband.”

He bit back a smile. “Whatever you say, wife.”

Drake linked their fingers together as he led her back to Svartos, who patiently waited at the edge of the bogs. “Shall we return to Aeramere?”

“No.” Her tone was icy, like the northern mountains. “To Brackroth.”

Apprehension stiffened Drake’s spine and his muscles tightened in response. “Brackroth?”

“Yes.” Creslyn smiled, malice lacing her perfect lips. “I have business with the king.”