Page 196 of The Call of Crimson
“It’s serene, isn’t it?” Gen asks, her arm slipping through mine.
I hadn’t noticed her there before, but it feels right. “It seems like somewhere I’ve been before, yet also the place I’ve been looking for my entire existence.”
Her dimples appear in that way when her smile is most genuine. It’s not the smile she gives her people or the smile she gives when sitting for a portrait. It’s the smile that lights her face in the midst of full belly laughter or the ones I’d catch her giving Raynor in intimate moments. “That’s typically what home feels like.”
It reminds me of the peace I feel anytime Breyla is in my arms. It has been far too long since I felt that.
“This isn’t the home I know.” We walk along the beach, our feet leaving shallow prints in the snow-dusted shore.
“Perhaps it’s the home you’re yet to find, the one that was always meant to be yours,” she suggests, leaning her head against my shoulder.
“But where is it?”
“You don’t need me to answer that,” Gen replies, a knowing smile curving her lips.
I know her well enough to know that she isn’t going to answer my question. “It would be nice if you did, though,” I grunt.
“Hm, where do you think we are?”
“I’m afraid to say,” I admit. I don’t want to say aloud where we are, because I don’t want that to be what feels like home.
“Sometimes, the things that scare us the most are the most rewarding.”
The first thing her words bring to mind is the beautiful redhead she calls daughter. My feelings for her were the most terrifying thing I had ever experienced. I spent years fighting them, avoiding being at the palace or anywhere that Breyla might be. Yet, when I finally gave in, finally faced the emotionsshe evoked in me, that was the most rewarding satisfaction I had ever known.
But that isn’t what she’s talking about now.
“I’m afraid to face whatever this place is. This half of me, it’s cruel. This part of my heritage is responsible for the death and suffering of so many. It’s what took you,” I whisper.
She stops, turns to face me, and runs her hand over my jaw. “A Fae may have laced that wine with the poison that took my life, but I died the day I slipped an ice dagger in Raynor’s head.”
My chest tightens, feeling the pain of losing her and Raynor all over again. The memory Elijah shared with us flashes through my mind as we both relive the moment Gen realized she had to end the life of the male she loved.
“I don’t know how to reconcile this part of me that feels responsible for the pain of so many,” I admit.
“Perhaps you’re blaming the actions of the few on a population of many,” Gen suggests.
“What are you saying?”
“That perhaps you are making a judgment without all the information.”
“Are the dead always this vague?” I tease.
“Only when we’re really trying to get a message across,” she laughs.
Her form wavers, the feel of her arm in mine beginning to fade. “I think it’s time to go.”
“One last thing, Aurelius,” she says, placing her semi-translucent hand on my chest. “If you ever keep things from my daughter again, I’ll find a way to help her end you, whether you’re my dearest friend or not.”
I release a hearty laugh, kissing her on the cheek. “There’s the terror I know and love.”
She smiles, her form fading. “Goodbye, Aurelius.”
“Goodbye, Gen,” I reply as my vision starts to fade.
The shoreline and salty air fade first, the birch trees and cliff fading next, until all I’m left with is darkness.
When I open my eyes again, I’m staring at the ceiling of the bedroom I’ve been calling home in Prudia. My toes are freezing.
