Page 55 of The Fated and the Damned
More. I wanted more.I wanted all of it.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself staring into depthless black that once shone brown and gold. Dante smiled, and a cool shiver licked down my spine as I wriggled in his lap. He was covered in my blood and his own, his hands latched onto Margit and Eszter’s from where they were linked together, feeding me. Their eyes remained the same blue and brown as always, shock lining those windows and their open mouths.
My stomach began knitting back together, the strength returning tenfold. My skin glowed, reminiscent of the great goddesses above. It was not normal for mortals to feel this much power in their skin, and it felt good. Sinfully good. Only this time, I had enough sense to stop, knowing I’d kill them if they gave much more. Already, Dante was failing, his head bowed, his eyes flickering from black to brown. Margit and Eszter gasped with the effort, sweat beading on their foreheads.
I looked at András—at the chest that had nearly stopped moving altogether, and I reined myself in, remembering who I was. Remembering my purpose.
“Break the tether,” I commanded, surprised by the strength of my tone. The otherworldly voice that was unrecognisable. My companions yanked away from my consciousness and I breathed in deeply, focusing only on András as the others scooted aside.
With glowing palms, I let the energy inside me morph into a different magic, one borne out of a need to restore and heal. “You’re going to be okay, András,” I breathed. “I am going to save you.”
Golden, bright magic soared out of me into the gaping wound in his chest, a terrible mess of blood and sinew. I willed that wound to close, sending my power deeper, curious tendrils winding around muscle and tendon, closing gaps and restoring a punctured lung, then knitting skin together, piece by piece, second by second, until my friend sucked in a deep breath, his eyes snapping open to reveal that green gaze I knew and loved.
“By all the gods. That was awful!” He blinked several times, clutching a hand to his heart as his eyes slid to mine. “And the woman I’d been dancing with was such a good dance partner.”
I laughed, launching myself at him and wrapping my arms around his neck. “A great loss, I’m sure. Now please, don’t fucking scare me like that again,” I demanded.
He chuckled. “No need to get emotional. I’m fine, thanks to you.”
His words were a little thick, betraying his feelings and I just smiled, hugging my friend harder, allowing us a small moment of reprieve despite the ruckus surrounding us.
“Dante?” Eszter’s trembling voice had me whirling instantly.
My husband swayed on his feet, his eyes unfocused, but he waved her off.
“I’m okay,” he said.
Right before his body tumbled to the ground.
TWENTY-FIVE
Dante
“Dante!”
I heard my name, but I couldn’t place who was calling it, nor see clearly the faces looking down at me. I’d given too much, offered too freely, but not without purpose.
There was only one way to enter the gates of hell, I was damn sure of it. Only one way to enter the realm of the Under World and find the crown. Kitarni had plotted and schemed with Margit and András, but I had plans of my own.
This time, my actions would benefit the right people. This time, I was a willing participant in this plan. A piece on a chess board, Kitarni had said of me not long ago. Only I wasn’t a pawn any longer. I was a fucking lord and I would protect my lady with all I had to give.
I looked around, having enough sense to realise I was no longer in the great hall, but in Margit’s lair. Her safe space and den of magics. The table I lay upon was cool against my feverish skin and I twisted my hands to set my palms against the wood, feeling every grain and dent beneath my fingers.
“Come back to me,” Kitarni whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She smoothed the hair back from my brow, her palm hot against my clammy forehead. “You’re so cold.” She turned to Margit with wide eyes. “He’s dying. I need to heal him!”
Margit’s hand snaked out, catching Kitarni’s wrist. “Not yet. We will heal him, I promise, but right now he is on the cusp of death, and that’s exactly where he needs to be.”
Kitarni shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m sorry, Kitarni,” Margit replied, avoiding my wife’s piercing gaze. My cousin kept her thoughts close to her chest, but even I knew the fear carried in those three words. She hadn’t agreed to this lightly, but we both knew it wasn’t me that was fated to end the Dark Queen. Only Kitarni could do that, and the risk of her not returning from the Under World was too great to take.
I might be lord, but I wasn’t irreplaceable. Especially now I had a lady—a wife—as capable as any man and stronger still. The world would know her fury.
Kitarni’s voice sounded far away as her pitch kicked up a notch. “What do you mean you’re sorry?” A pause for a few beats, then recognition as her face twisted first into hard lines of anger, followed by despair and denial. “No. We had a deal. You promised, Margit! It was meant to be me.”
“It was my choice, Freckles,” I mumbled. “I do this willingly. I need to do this, not just for all of you, but for myself.” Her strangled cry only hardened my heart, fortifying my decision. “Margit will bring me back. Iwillcome back to you. I promise.”
My cousin looked at my wife, the sharpness to her features softening at the fear on my beloved’s face. “Dante has passed too much power to you, Kitarni. His life teeters in this world and the next, which is the perfect time to conduct the spell. I do not do this lightly. I have done my research and I would stake my life on this working. His body will remain here, but his mind will travel to the Under World. Please. If we’re to do this, it must be right now. I cannot make the choice for you both.”
