Page 89 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain
Alec stands and walks to a bar cart near the window. He grabs a crystal decanter of amber liquid that glitters in the sunlight and pours a healthy amount. He lifts an empty glass, brow lifted in question, and I nod.
“For years people were frightened, unsure if there was some blight perhaps taking over, or if some group from overseas was plotting something.” Alec hands me the glass of liquor—our fingertips barely brushing—before gracefully sliding back into his chair. “There are all manner of blights and groups with questionable ambitions on the Mother Continent. The Territories have seen many civil wars. There was great fear that another war was to come, but eventually all the strange deaths stopped.”
Curiosity is thoroughly holding me in its hands. “Have you spent time on the Mother Continent?”
“Yes. I spent many years there as a mercenary before I became king.”
“With your brother?” I blurt without thinking. “I’m sorry,” I hastily add. “He told me he spent time there.”
The anger I’m expecting from Alec doesn’t come. “Do not apologize, Ellya. Ask me anything you like. But no, our time on the Mother Continent did not overlap. When our father died, I came home and Locane left.”
While Alec lights another cigarette, I can’t help but notice his similarities to Locane. The inflection of their pronounced, refined accent. The matching color of their hair, their eyes, their skin. The identical straight nose and high cheekbones. Their full lips.
I turn away from Alec and take a large gulp of whiskey. It burns horribly, and a cough drenched in fire climbs up my throat.
“Fucking Mother, that’s rancid.” I wrinkle my nose.
Alec’s warm, rumbling laugh rolls pleasantly through my body. I smile past the scorched flesh burning my mouth.
“That is the finest spirits coin can buy, Elly. That particular barrel was aged for three hundred years.” Alec throws back his glass, not even flinching, and smiles.
Without warning, my vision warps and Alec’s soft mouth morphs into a hard line that I’m so used to seeing on that striking face. His eyes turn lifeless and cold.
My breath catches and I stand, knocking over my glass. Whiskey races across the desk and soaks into a stack of papers.
“I should go. I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” I choke out in a panicked whisper.
Alec stands too, suddenly alarmed.
I grab onto the edge of the desk as a wave of dizziness strikes, causing my vision to tilt.
“Elly, what happened? What changed?” Alec asks as he quickly rounds the desk.
My vision has steadied by the time he reaches me and gently places a hand on my cheek, turning meto look at him. “You are bleeding again,” he whispers as he cradles my face and tenderly rubs the drip from my nose with his thumb.
My vision distorts again.
Suddenly I’m standing outside with the hateful version of this lovely face who also has blood on his thumb—only it’s not my blood—and he reaches it to my parted lips.
Then the setting changes to the sitting room of a country house and my lips are parted for the same person, but for an entirely different reason.
I shove him away from me, my palm pushing against his shoulder.
Alec drops his hands from me instantly. I quickly turn away from him, my hurried feet carrying me across the study. The sounds of Alec’s heavy steps chase me up the stairs. Before he can follow through the door to my chambers, I slam it shut behind me and slide down the door, sitting with my knees pressed into my chest.
“Please, open the door, Ellya. I will not touch you, I promise.”
My breath tears ragged holes through my lungs as I drop my head between my knees. Alec gives up much quicker than I expected, and my breathing starts to calm while I ground myself in reality.
Alec appears directly in front of me. I gasp, holding a hand over my racing heart.
He didn’t give up at all; he just took an alternate route.
Peeling myself off the floor, I walk towards him and aggressively push his shoulders. “I guess you didn’t take the hint that I don’t want to be around you anymore.” My cruel words hold venom.
Alec’s face is twisted with both shock and outrage, but he stands solid. “I took it as you were being open and responsive with me for the first time since you have returned. Then in a breath—with noobvious trigger—you threw up a wall and ran in fucking terror. I want to know why. What happened?” A sliver of his frustration shows.
“Just go.”
