Premonition of Peace (Her Immortal Monsters #3)

Chapter 17

seventeen

MARCEL

A cough rattled through my lungs, and I lurched off the bed, keeling over. As I straightened and laid back down, every breath felt like a struggle.

Living wasn’t supposed to be this hard.

There were moments where I had dark thoughts that I was ready for all of this to be done. To finish this on my own terms, on my own time. But then, I pictured my sunbeam. She was determined. Nathalie always had a way of doing the impossible. I had underestimated her for so long. I could see that now. If I could live through this, I’d spend the rest of our lives making it up to her.

I tried to hold on to hope, but each passing hour became harder. Truthfully, I lived for the moments I could steal from her. Each text. Each phone call. It wasn’t enough for her to check in on me once a day, it had now turned to every few hours.

I tried to lighten the mood with jokes about my condition, but most of them fell flat. She could tell I was trying to deflect, not that it wasn’t painfully obvious anyway.

A sharp knock at the front door sounded. With great effort, I pushed myself up from the bed, ignoring the aches that coursed through my body.

The door swung open, and I couldn’t help the way my heartrate picked up at the sight of Nathalie. Her brown hair was curling lightly around her face, hanging over her shoulders. Her brown eyes widened as she took me in, her plump lower lip being pulled between her teeth.

“Hey, you,” she said with a small smile.

I watched her for a second, noting the way her eyes kept sliding past me, looking for something beyond me. Or someone. I swallowed my disappointment and petty jealousy so that I didn’t lose a moment with her.

“Hey, yourself.” I leaned against the door frame, feigning nonchalance, but really just needing the extra support. “August’s not here. Business of some sort.”

“Well, that’s good for him. I actually came to see you.” My heart skipped a beat, thrilled that the envy I’d felt was all for nothing. She’d come for me. When I didn’t move or respond, she twisted her lips to the side. “You gonna invite me in, or . . .?”

“Right, sorry,” I said, trying to be as relaxed as possible.

Her presence was like the universe handing me a small gift, and I wouldn’t waste it for a second. Stepping aside to let her in, she moved past me and headed straight for my room. I shuffled slowly, trailing quietly behind her.

Nathalie plopped onto the edge of my bed, her eyes scanning the room briefly before settling back on me. “You can drop the glamour,” she said, her voice forcefully casual. “I know it’s draining your energy. You don’t need to hide it in front of me.”

I shrugged noncommittally, choosing to downplay the point behind her statement. I know she didn’t like the glamour. She wanted to see what I looked like, wanted to watch my decline for herself, but keeping it up wasn’t just about appearances and vanity. It was about preserving some sense of normalcy, of dignity, in the face of this fate I couldn’t seem to escape.

Feeling her gaze weighing on me, I moved to take a seat on my bed, leaning back against the headboard. Nathalie moved to her feet, facing away from me as she moved to my dresser and began toying with the few trinkets on it. I watched her for several moments, at first content to let her come to me when she was ready.

“Are you doing okay?” I asked, starting to worry slightly. She was rarely this quiet.

She hesitated, her back still to me, her hand floating over a picture frame. “I’ve been better.”

“Nathalie,” I said in a flat voice, cocking an eyebrow.

“I can’t figure it out.” She sniffled and finally turned her watery brown eyes on me. “I don’t know how to save you. I don’t know how to save Sasha. I don’t know how to do anything. I don’t know what it’s like to be this helpless and lost, and it’s driving me crazy. I should have figured out something by now.” She cleared her throat to hold herself back from crying.

“Come here,” I urged softly, holding my arms out and gesturing to my lap to make it clearer what I wanted.

Nathalie hesitated; her concern etched across her face. I reassured her with a faint smile, “I’m not that weak. Come here, sunbeam.”

Finally, she relented, stepping closer until I could reach out and pull her into my lap. She swung her leg over mine, coming to straddle me, face to face. She was stiff at first, trying to hold her weight off of me, but as my hand rubbed over her back, she slowly relaxed into my touch.

“I’ve always known that I had an early expiration date attached to me,” I said, finally talking over the quiet. “Whether we find some miracle or not, I’m just grateful that you know the truth now. That you know all I ever wanted was to love you and protect you.”

“It’s not enough,” she whispered, pulling back to peer at me with tears streaming down her face.

“It might have to be.” It was the painful truth, and I hated to say it out loud. “Both of us know that if that happens, it wasn’t for lack of trying. You put in everything you have. You’re going to have accept that it was enough.”

Her lips quirked in a small, sad smile. “Why is it that the dying are always comforting the ones who will survive?” she mumbled. “How backwards is that?”

I chuckled lightly, rubbing my thumb over her lower lip. “I’ll comfort you anytime if it means you’ll sit on me like this.”

Nathalie’s small, sad smile widened a bit, but the tears in her eyes remained. Nathalie had always been like that. The type to take on the world’s problems as her own, to believe that tragic moments of fate were somehow her responsibility. More than ever, I wanted to take it all away, to give her a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against mine. “I wish we had more time.” She sighed, her breath warm against my skin.

“We have this moment,” I replied softly, brushing my lips lightly against hers. She froze for a second. The choice was hers. I wasn’t going to push it on her and I wasn’t going to make her feel like she had to.

Then her hands moved to cup my face as she pushed her lips against mine. The kiss was tentative at first, but Nathalie knew what she wanted, and I was happy to give it to her as she deepened the kiss. As our mouths moved together, the world outside of our small bubble just disappeared. There was no illness, no impending doom—just us and this precious, fleeting moment of intimacy. Nathalie’s fingers traced the lines of my jaw, her touch sending shivers down my spine. My grip on her tighter as I held her closer.

“Marcel,” she breathed against my lips, her voice breaking slightly. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” I promised, even though we both knew it was a promise I couldn’t keep. Gods, did I want to.

Her kisses had become more urgent, more demanding. She pushed herself against me as if she were trying to imprint herself onto my skin. All hesitation in either of us had dissipated and given way to an almost rushed sense of passion.

She quickly pulled at her sweater, tugging it over her head, revealing a red, lacy bra with a front closure. I flipped us over, putting her body beneath mine. My lips skirted a path of nips and kisses across her smooth skin. I stopped my trail at the crest of her breast, placing one last nip before I unsnapped the clasp of her bra. The delicate material fell to the side. My hands were beasts of their own, cupping her breasts, each of my thumbs toying with the hardening nipples. I couldn’t resist the temptation and leaned forward, latching my mouth onto one of the stiff peaks.

“Marcel,” Nathalie groaned out as I rolled one of the little buds between my teeth before sucking away the sting.

Pulling away with a pop, my hands moved to her hips, dragging my hands slowly at the edge of her underwear, teasing.

Nathalie grabbed my wrist, pushing it further down. “Touch me,” she said hoarsely.

Leaning back, I shimmied her leggings down, taking her underwear with them. I tossed them to the floor, not caring at all where they landed.

She knew what she wanted, spreading her legs to give me access. Lying beside her, I brushed my lips over hers while I teased her opening, coating my fingers in her wetness. Her breathing hitched every time she thought that would be the moment she got what she’d asked for, until finally I plunged two fingers inside her, and she gasped, her pussy clenching. I stroked her inner walls, lightly rubbing my thumb over her clit as I found the speed and angle I knew would make her come undone. Gods, I had missed this.

“Nathalie,” I murmured, my voice rough with emotion as I watched her writhe against my hand. “You feel so fucking good.”

Her lusty gaze met mine, and she bit her bottom lip, nodding her head. “I always loved what you could do with your hands.”

With my fingers buried inside her, she fisted the sheets and moved her hips in a rhythm that felt like coming home. Watching her body respond to my touch felt as magical as any spell I’d ever cast.

“I want to look at me when you come,” I whispered, planting kisses along her jaw before I pushed myself to sit on my knees. It gave me the perfect view. “Give me that, sunbeam. You know how pretty you look when you shatter.”

Nat gave me a salacious crooked smile that made my cock twitch. I wanted to bury myself inside her for hours. But first, I wanted to watch her.

I flattened my palm on her lower abdomen as I curved my fingers upward, stroking her against the pressure I’d created. My thumb pressed into her clit and her legs began to twitch. Her mouth fell open, and her back began to arch, and still, she kept her eyes on me. Her pussy tightened around my fingers as the pleasure built. Her orgasm shook through her, a throaty groan escaping her as she trembled around my hand while I kept stroking inside her, drawing out the intensity and making her come again.

In that moment, a brief flash of gold appeared over one eye before a glamour flickered back into place. She threw her head back with a cry as the second orgasm tore through her.

Nathalie’s body unwound, and she released her death grip on the sheets while little spasms fluttered around my fingers. I pulled my hand away while she caught her breath.

I leaned against the wall, trying to still my own breathing. It had taken more energy than I could have imagined. Sweat dripped down my temple.

“Marcel,” she said quickly, sitting up next to me, checking me over. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Just a little winded.”

She ran her hands through her hair. “We shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry.”

Turning to her, I met her gaze. Two brown eyes stared back, but I know what I saw. “I have no regrets, sunbeam.”

“No, you spend so much energy keeping your glamour up?—”

“You have a glamour too.” I hadn’t intended on blurting it out, but time was a luxury I didn’t have anymore.

“I . . .” She stared at me, wide-eyed. “How did you know?”

Tilting my head back against the wall, I pulled my legs up and rested my elbows on my knees. “The second time you came. Your glamour broke.”

“Fuck.” She got off the bed, grabbing her clothes and putting them back on while I silently watched. She sat on the edge of mattress when she was done, keeping her back to me while she stared at the wall.

“Are you going to tell me what it was?”

Nathalie let out a deep sigh. “You’re going to be pissed, and I don’t want to fight with you about it, Marcel. Can we leave it at that?”

“I don’t have it in me to fight with you either, Nat.” It was the truth. I really didn’t. My end was near, and I didn’t want to spend it mad at each other. Not when we’d come this far. Not when she’d finally understood what happened. Last time she’d visited, she’d told me she didn’t our last words being said out of anger. I agreed. “I’ll drop my glamour if you drop yours.”

She turned her head slightly, giving me a questioning look before she finally nodded.

I dropped mine, and I know how hard it must have been to keep herself together. I looked worse every day. Her lips parted slightly, and then she swallowed thickly. Letting out a shuddering breath, she closed her eyes. When she opened them up, it was my turn to stare in awe.

“Surprise,” she mumbled.

“Indeed,” I said, clearing my throat.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

“I . . . have a lot of questions.”

“Ask away.”

“Is that what I think it is?”

“If you’re guessing the Eye of Parcae, you’d be correct.”

I blew out a breath. “So it’s not a myth, after all. How did you find it?”

“I didn’t actually,” she said, hoisting a leg onto the bed and turning her body to face me as we spoke. “Kat did. She gave it to me.”

I huffed. “Of course she did. That’s why you’d asked me what I knew about it.”

“Guilty.” Nathalie hesitated, her fingers toying with each other.

“Clearly you found someone who knows how to use it.” I hope . Surely she wouldn’t have done this without knowing for sure.

She nodded. “Se?ora Rosara.”

A chuckle formed, and Nat looked at me curiously. “Honestly, I’m not surprised. If anyone would know about it, it’d be her.”

“She’s also the one who put it in me.”

A small wave of anger rushed through me. That old witch put Nat in danger, but a whisper in the back of my mind was quick to remind me that I knew damn well Nat had made this decision all on her own. Instead of voicing any of it, I let it go. It was all I could do. What would be the purpose of saying it anyway?

“So? What’s it do?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re taking this awfully well.”

“Nat, you have a golden eyeball right now. It’s a little shocking, I’ll admit. But you did it for a reason. No one makes you do anything you don’t want to. Believe me, I’ve learned that.”

She twisted her lips in a small smile. “Took you long enough.”

“It’s the one thing that just wouldn’t sink in,” I said, tapping my temple, and she let out a laugh.

“It’s permanent, you know,” she said softly, and I cringed. It’s what I’d expected, but the confirmation stung. “I can see the threads of life with it.”

“Jesus . . .” I whispered, genuinely shocked. “I just thought it was supposed to help you find the objects of fate.”

“Sort of. It won’t help me find a cure. It’s supposed to allow me to wield the objects of fate, but I can’t find them without a thread to follow. I don’t know how to sort those out. The threads are like breathing entities. They pulse with life and power, and some . . .” She paused, her features softening for a moment before she lightly cleared her throat. “Some of them are brighter than others. Stronger.” Nathalie winced, looking away from me. “I can see the bonds between people too. Even us. It’s remarkable.”

“And ours?” It was a fool’s hope to ask.

“Fading,” she said in a barely audible whisper. “I’m just at a loss.”

I sighed. “I wish I could help you. I don’t know any more than what I’ve told you about it. It was always vague, at best. Sounds like Se?ora Rosara knew far more.”

“Deep down I think the objects of fate will help me save you. I don’t know how to explain it.” Staring out the window, her shoulders slumped slightly. “How am I supposed to find three threads amongst the countless, Marcel? It’s the universe’s ‘fuck-you-riddle’.”

Tilting my head back to rest on the wall again, I closed my eyes. I was so tired, but my sunbeam needed me. “Might as well be searching in the dark,” I muttered.

“What’d you say?” she asked, her voice lowered, and I shot my eyes open. She’d stopped pacing and had turned to me, her arms at her side. “Say that again.”

“You might as well be searching in the dark?”

Nathalie went blank for a moment as she thought, and a panic started to fill me. Before I said anything more, her mouth fell open. “It’s how I found my way in the darkness . . .”

“You found your way, what?” I asked, sitting up straighter and no longer leaning on the wall.

She began to pace again, flexing her hands. “It’s something a . . . friend said. ‘Eyes don’t help you see what’s already there.’ You visualize what’s real. Everything else, you imagine . . .” She trailed off, a crease forming between her brows before she muttered, “‘My other senses became enhanced. It’s how I found my way in the darkness.’ That’s it, Marcel!”

I stared at her blankly. “You’re going to have to tell me what that means. I don’t know what’s happening right now.”

“Sit with me,” she said in a rush, coming to the bed and sitting on the edge, patting beside her. I scooted toward her, completely confused. It was like she was having a conversation with someone else right now, and I was definitely not included. “Stay quiet. Not a sound.”

Nathalie closed her eyes, and we waited in silence. The white noise of the fan hummed. I focused on her breathing as it became rhythmic and steadied. I had no idea how much time had passed. I watched in awe, recognizing that something was happening, some discovery was being made, and I wasn’t about to interrupt her.

She licked her lips and murmured quietly, holding out her hands as though she were waiting for an offering. “The shears.”

I practically choked on air when the space above her outstretched hands began to shimmer like someone was sprinkling gold glitter. An unremarkable pair of shears, plain bronze and antiquated, materialized in her hand.

Nathalie opened her eyes, a brilliant smile spreading across her face as she looked from her hand to me and back. “I think I’ve figured out how it works.”

A cough wracked through me as I tried to smile and tell her how amazing she was. Instead, I tipped over, curling into a fetal position on the bed. Exhaustion overwhelmed me, and my body was screaming to rest. I had overdone it. But how could I not? My days were numbered, and I’d give anything to spend each hour with Nathalie.

"Marcel!” she yelled, jumping up from her spot and rubbing circles on my upper back.

August called from down the hall, surprising both of us. “Nat?”

“Slow breaths. Slow. It’ll pass,” she said, though I was sure she was trying to convince herself instead of me. August rushed into the room, making me feel worse than I already did. She looked at him, her glamoured eyes pleading. “Help me get him moved? He needs to rest.”

The incubus scooped me into his arms and set me further up on the bed while Nathalie placed pillows under my head. A part of me died on the inside that he’d just picked me up. I wanted to push him off and tell him I could do it myself, but the truth was, I was too weak to even fight it.

When my coughing subsided, she pulled the covers over my chest. Brushing her hand over my forehead, she leaned down to place a gentle kiss on my lips.

“Don’t go,” I said, though it was barely a whisper.

“I have to,” she replied softly, stroking my hair. “I will be back, Marcel. I promise. Hold on for me. I can fix this. I know I can. Hold on for me, okay?”

My eyelids fluttered closed as I tried to hang on to consciousness and her voice faded out.

I would hold on for her, as long as I could. Whatever darkness she’d spoken of earlier, she’d found her way out. She wouldn’t stop trying to save me. A black, dreamless sleep had me in its grasp, but there was a bright light in the distance.

My sunbeam.