Page 52 of The Deathless One
As her strikes slowed, she seemed to deflate just slightly, those bony shoulders curving and her angry breaths calming, until at last her forehead dropped against his chest.
“I don’t know how to deal with this,” she whispered. “I feel so guilty. And I’m also so happy that he’s gone. How can I be happy that someone is no longer alive?”
He shrugged, feeling her head rock against his chest. “I think it’s best not to look into those emotions too much. Diving deeper into that darkness is rarely good for anyone, my nightmare.”
Then she surprised him again. She always surprised him. With a heavy sigh, Jessamine wrapped her arms around his waist and tucked herself in close.
His arms hung awkwardly at his sides. What was he supposed to do in this situation? She’d just been hitting him, and now she was… holding on to him. Should he put his arms around her? He’d seen humans do that before, but they never wanted to touch him like this. He had thought that in this circumstance he’d know what to do, but he certainly did not.
“Don’t think about it so much,” she muttered. “Just hold me, please.”
Carefully, he lifted his hands. Setting one on her shoulder felt right, the other he slowly slid across her back until his thumb rested on her ribs and the rest of his hand lay on top of her hip. Yes, this was right. They fit together rather like two puzzle pieces. She sighed, and he felt her go boneless in his arms.
Something clicked inside him. Something that he wasn’t quite comfortable with. But it was there now, a small beacon of light glowing in his chest. Licking his lips, he turned his head and gently bent down to rest his cheek on top of her head. He was enveloped by her death-lily smell, and some of the tension leaked out of his shoulders and spine as he eased himself into the hug.
She was…
Right,he thought. That was the only word he could think of. This was right. This moment had been destined from the first time he’d seen her.
“I’m sorry for yelling,” she said against his chest. “It’s not fair for meto blame you for all my own struggles. I just thought if it was your magic, then at least it wasn’t my fault.”
“You can blame me for whatever you wish, nightmare.” His grip tightened around her, hauling her just a little closer, and he hoped she didn’t feel how desperately he clutched her to him.
This meant nothing. He was touch starved, and he’d never been hugged so sweetly before. He was merely using her to experience something new, not that he enjoyed the feeling of her in his arms.
“No, I can’t blame you for everything. I just am so angry about all of this, and I worry that anger is going to take over.”
“May I ask you a question?” He lifted his head, looking down at her until she stared up at him. Those big eyes were so fearful of what he might ask. “Do you even want this throne?”
She blinked, the bruises around her eyes darkening. “Of course I do.”
That wasn’t the answer he was looking for, though. “Why? Why do you want the throne?”
“Because it is my birthright.”
He hummed low underneath his breath. “That is the answer of a child who has been given everything in her life. You can do better than that.”
“Because I wish to honor the memory of my mother, who is now dead and gave everything for me to have that throne.” Her eyes flicked to the side, as they always did when she lied.
“Now you sound naïve. Come on, nightmare, there’s a real reason in there, and I want to hear it.”
He released her, even if it felt like bending metal just to let her go. But this was important. He needed her to hear this. He needed her to say it.
Her arms hung in the shape of him for a few moments. Glistening tracks of tears marred her cheeks as anger flashed in her eyes again. “Because in the months since I was killed, I have seen the true state of my kingdom. I have seen the best and worst of its citizens, and I know now that we failed our people. My mother and I were not given the whole story. Without knowing the whole truth, we were bound to fail. I will not fail again. I have put in too much work and effort to lose it all to some idiotwho thought he could kill me on our wedding day. I fucking deserve that crown.”
“There it is,” he murmured. “Now you sound like a queen.”
He could see the realization fill her body. She would do anything to keep this kingdom, her throne, and everything in between—because it was hers.
And he would do whatever it took to help her get it back.
In the days to come, Jessamine would try not to think about that moment. She staggered out of her room, got herself clean for the first time in what must have been a week. She had to scrub so hard that her skin turned bright red, but once she was done, she felt a little more like herself.
Sybil had been helpful. The moment she saw Jessamine walk into the kitchen, the other witch went into full damage control. Food appeared wherever Jessamine was, and they continued with their magical lessons, although they were becoming much easier.
For the most part, Sybil just handed Jessamine a book in the morning to read about the magical properties of plants or what particular spells were supposed to do.
No magic was cast for the week that passed after Jessamine had hugged a god.
