The clock above the stove sounds so distant, so far away, but it is an intrusion as I wait for that whisper; the sound of my name wrought from anguish, low and suffered, a plea—
But it doesn’t come.
My face crumples with a frown.
An edge of disappointment nips at me.
I sigh, soft, and slide my fingers around the brass handles of the tray. My grip firms—and just as I make to turn around for the swing door, the whisper comes.
“Vicious one.”
I still.
My lashes flutter on my view, but I don’t really see the kitchen in front of me.
I have focus only for the whisper.
It once sounded like Daxeel.
Now, it is different. It is deeper, gravellier.
I peel my grip away from the handles.
My heart stops in my chest as, slow, I turn my chin to my shoulder. I should see the swing door behind me. The door that pushes open to the tavern.
But it is blocked from my view.
Blocked by a tall, muscular frame sheathed in leathers.
I blink on him, once, twice, stunned. Too stunned to utter a word, to move, to weep, to sneer.
This isn’t the whisper of his soul reaching out to mine, lost beyond the veil, searching for its other half. This is him.
Daxeel.
He is really here.
And… I am just rooted to the spot.
I lift my stare from a strong chest, glistening leathers winking at me in the dim light, and I find a familiar neck. The softest caramel complexion, inked with tattoos—but marred with a fresh marking.
A scar about two inches wide, slashed across his throat. I stare at it so long that Daxeel answers an unspoken, tangled question thrumming through me.
His hand lifts, inked and calloused, and his fingertips touch to the wrinkled scar. “Ateralum.”
I blink.
Then my heart drops to my gut.
The blade I used, the one I plunged into that very neck, was ateralum. The scar—it will never fade. It will reach all the way into his throat, as deep as I stabbed, and that is why his voice is changed.
I didn’t know.
I didn’t consider it.
The blade that the litalf used on Eamon, that is the one I used on Daxeel. Ateralum isn’t anything that makes sense to consider.
But these weren’t litalf officials.