Page 75 of The Deathless One
“Elric?”
Damn him.
Damn her.
Because the moment she called out his name was the moment that he froze and waited to hear whatever would drop from those beautiful berry-red lips.
“Nightmare?” he said.
“Don’t go.”
He had to. He was going to shatter in front of her, breaking into a thousand pieces, because the longer he was with her, the more hewanted.
“I am not like them. I do not wish to be. I made a vow to you and I intend to keep it. What they did to you was—”
“Don’t,” he interrupted, squeezing his eyes shut against the memories that threatened to overwhelm him. “That was not for you to see. I was not prepared for you to see who I really am.”
“I know that, but I… I saw your memories.”
“I have spent centuries creating the Deathless God. Years upon years developing a terrifying vision of a god who could not be killed. One who served the witches that were feared throughout these kingdoms, and who was the source of all their wicked power.” He took a shuddering breath.“And now you see the man beneath it all, Jessamine. I do not know what to do with that.”
And that was the problem. He didn’t know how to go back to what they had been before. Not when she knew the true depths of him, the bleeding underbelly of the beast he had built out of his home.
He walked away. Each step felt heavier the farther he got from her.
She almost-shouted, “I want you to teach me spellcraft!”
He looked over his shoulder, raising one eyebrow with curiosity. Phantom chains slithered around his torso, binding him to her as he had feared they would. “You already have a teacher. Sybil taught you all that she knew and more. You have books to read and research, do you not?”
“I was a terrible student who didn’t understand a single word Sybil tried to teach me. She said I wasn’t focused enough, and that magic always came at a price.”
There was a long pause, and finally he turned back to look at her. She sat on the edge of the sarcophagus, her legs dangling off the edge, not even reaching the ground. This tiny woman held so much power in her hands and she didn’t even know it.
“What do you think I could teach you that she could not?” he asked.
“Everything,” she replied, lingering on the word as though it was both blessing and curse. “I’ve been so afraid of this magic, but the closest we have gotten to discovering who is behind murdering me was when I used your magic on Benji.”
“You hated how that made you feel.”
“I did. I do.” She scrunched her face and shook her head. “I don’t want to know how to light candles with a thought or how to beckon a god to my side. I want to know how to protect myself. I never again want to be put in a situation where I must either kill or be killed. I want to be able to stop any attacker before that.”
Well, she always did surprise him.
Elric tucked his hands beside his back and strode toward her. “Is that really what you want? You barely talked for a week after Benji’s untimely death.”
“It’s your magic that allows me to kill people, not mine,” she whispered, not breaking eye contact with him, but clearly uncomfortable with what she was saying. “I want to know how to control your power so that I don’t have to kill people. I can choose not to.”
This was more under his control. He knew how to have this conversation, because he had had it a hundred times before.
Tucking his finger under her chin, he forced her face up. “You have seen how different I am now. You feel how close we have become in just a short amount of time, yes?”
“Yes.”
“If we do this, you will be drawn even closer to me. You are not a worshipper, Jessamine, you aremine. There is a significant difference between you and Sybil. You choose to do this, and there is no going back.”
She swallowed, that pretty neck of hers working to gulp down her apprehension. “If that’s the price I have to pay, then I will pay it.”
“Is that so? You don’t even know what it means.” He smirked. “You always were an intriguing little nightmare.”
