Page 15 of A Curse of Breath and Blood

“Oh, my little queen. I am‌ real.”The words dripped like poison from his lips.

“Fuck you, Gideon.”

“Aelia!” A familiar voice pulled me back to reality. “Wake up, Aelia.”

My eyes fluttered open to find Caiden gripping my shoulders. Sweat drenched my body. Tiny bruises formed on my palms where my finders had been embedded.

“I could hear you screaming through the walls.”

The light from a single candle illuminated his sculpted physique.

His heat radiated through me, causing my cheeks to flush red.

I gasped for air. I wanted him closer. My fingers itched to feel his skin just a moment longer.

Any flame burning inside me went cold at the sight of his wedding ring glinting in the candlelight. Once, long ago, that ring could have been mine. Nausea bubbled in my stomach, bringing up the hurt and humiliation I thought I’d gotten over.

“Thank… you,” I said through ragged breaths.

Caiden scoffed. “I need my rest. It’s hard to sleep through your screams.” He released me, though his touch lingered on my skin.

I deserved every ounce of disdain Caiden directed at me. He remained as guarded as I, and rightly so.

After I escaped from Ryft’s Edge, Caiden tried to put me back together. To mend my broken soul, but I couldn’t be fixed. There was nothing left of the girl he had fallen in love with. Carved into a thousand tiny shards, I couldn’t be put back together again.

Broken, I wanted Caiden to hurt the way I did.

“I never loved you. You are nothing to me. I never want to see you again.”My words still haunted me to this day.

Tossing and turning, I tried to convince myself it had all been a dream. Gideon couldn’t be here. But he seemed so close. So real. My skin crawled from his lips on my cheek. I needed to get far away from here.

Instinctively, I reached for my satchel. Rummaging through it, I pulled out the small bag where I kept my stash of dust. Tipping it over, my heart sank. Only a few flecks poured out.Shit. I’d need more.

Fresh air would help. Throwing the covers off the bed, I pulled on my leathers and wool cloak.

Amolie’s bed lay empty. Sometimes, when she couldn’t sleep, she prayed at the temple of Ammena—the human goddess of the Trinity.

I tucked my dagger, Little Death, into my leather pants and slipped out into the night, pulling my hood up over my head.

Cold night air whipped at my face as I traversed the city’s snow-covered streets. Wooden buildings sagged with the weight of water, and the taste of salt lingered in the air. I raised my mental barriers like a thick wall of stone in my mind. Gideon sought my thoughts like a shark searching for blood in the water. I needed to protect myself. If what I had dreamed was real, he wouldn’t be far off. Our blood mixed, our thoughts eternally linked.

I snapped my fingers nervously, trying to distract myself from the craving clawing at my mind. Without a medicinal dose, my thoughts would consume me. My chest refused to unknot. I needed to find dust soon before I curbed my need in other ways.

Shops run by both humans and magus lined the docks. I canned each one, looking for any sign they carried what I sought.

Even this late in the evening, salt mongers raked the terraced bay of the lake.

My eyes searched frantically for anyone peddling more than just salt and fish.

I hurried through the stalls, desperate to find a hit, before I did something rash. Champing on the willow bark I used as a placebo, its effects would only last so long.

I dug my nails into my palms, the pain a welcomed relief.

Down back alleys I marched, feet slipping on wet snow. Pain radiated through my mind. I needed dust and I needed it soon, or else I would be a puddle of nothing in the streets of a strange city.

I rounded the corner of the seedier part of town. Questionable characters lingered in darkened alcoves. The sound of glass breaking and fists shattering bone echoed through the streets.

A brothel nestled between two saloons shone like a beacon of hope. If the women didn’t have dust, they could provide me with other distractions.

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