Rising

Chapter 16

Several evenings later, I went to Cassiel's room as promised to read the story, but what I found moved me to the point where I thought I might have been wrong about Deimos. He held the book in his hand and had fallen asleep beside Cassiel. Several times that evening, he had expressed his desire for me to go to bed earlier, as my hand injury had been more troublesome than on other days. Of course, I promptly refused. I still didn't trust him much, and I was afraid of what could happen between them. I had decided to check on them with the excuse of the book. I tucked Cassiel in, kissing his forehead, and then I approached Deimos and whispered, "You need to wake up; this isn't your bed," kissing his closed eyes. He groggily awoke, looking at me questioningly, then looked around and understood."I must have fallen asleep," he said in a hushed tone. "I didn't want to fall asleep; I was worried about you!"I smiled, offering him my uninjured hand, which he took, and we stood up. He placed the book on the dark wooden nightstand, and as he held me around the waist, we twirled out of the room."You're still the same stubborn head," he accused playfully."You're right, you always tell me that," I smiled, kissing him sweetly. He returned my kiss. When we finally pulled away from each other, I observed him. His long lashes framed his light eyes, which shone in the darkness, driving me wild."What if they come looking for him, and we can't protect him?" The usual crease of concern appeared on his furrowed forehead."I don't know. What are you asking exactly?" I asked through gritted teeth."Teach him to fight," he replied.I looked at him incredulously. Did he want to put a weapon back in his hands?"Are you out of your mind?" I asked, barely holding back my anger."No, you have to admit it: the likelihood of them coming for him is high, especially because you took him into the city without any precautions. Somehow they know where to find us, and you know it!" The last words sounded like an accusation, as if I had been careless or inattentive, but before Cassiel's arrival, I couldn't even imagine how that place without light was structured, and I would have gladly avoided close encounters with those abominations. On the other hand, I had to admit he was right. I had been reckless, carried away by enthusiasm, I had forgotten that this was no longer the peaceful and shadowless world it used to be."I don't know what will happen if we don't find the sword in time. Lucifer and Caleb are still working on it. But in any case, I want Cassiel to live and be happy, with or without us. I want him to know a civilized world and the love of the woman who will love him. He has already suffered too much." He knew how to convince me; that was the final blow. I understood he knew and decided that he was sincere."Okay, but only self-defense techniques!" He smiled triumphantly; that was my compromise. But how did the Suari General always manage to be one step ahead of me? I pondered until a new idea occurred to me."I think they know exactly where we are and what we're doing because they have an informer. What if someone from our people is working as their informant? Or, worse yet, what if someone close to us is the spy?" He looked at me with wide eyes, as if I had just emitted a piercing sound that his ears refused to hear, and his brain to decipher. In the dimly lit hallway, I realized the accusations I was making; I myself found it hard to believe what I had said. If my hypothesis were correct, everything I had defended with my life and everything Deimos and I had invested our energy and existence in would be lost. The trust our people had in us and the protection we tried to provide them would have been nothing but a lie, yet another one. Lys had never known pessimism or hatred; violence and oppression were what we had never used on our people. We had always loved open and fair confrontation. I felt something inside me break. I had been created for Deimos, but I had always watched over our people. If that was my mood, I couldn't even imagine what feelings and thoughts were taking hold of him, who had spent the last one hundred and thirty years studying our history just to govern our slice of the world correctly and prevent the mistakes of the past from recurring. He had spent his days locked in the study, poring over millions of documents and requests from the people. Had it all been in vain? Now I felt it. I felt what I had done, trying to lure Lucifer in our past lives, and probably in the present when I chose Deimos again. That horrible mixture of distrust and anguish that had taken over every inch of my body without leaving any void, insinuated doubt into my mind and whispered it into my ear like a promise. It was unmistakable, it was what I hated most but had committed: betrayal. "Maybe I exaggerated it too much, maybe I'm wrong," I tried to convince Deimos, to convince both of us. But my theory held water, and we both knew it. I caressed his face, as if trying to sweep away the torment painted on it. He was stiff and scared; I should have kept that horrific and absurd revelation to myself. But deep down, I felt it in my soul; I wasn't wrong. It took him a few minutes to recover, and he nervously began to twirl my long hair around his fingers as I guided him through the long, silent hallway to his room. When we arrived, he sat on the bed, and I curled up on his lap. We fit together perfectly. We stayed entwined for a time I couldn't define but found insufficient. I felt his calm and steady breath on my neck, his fingers tracing my body's curves as if he were molding me, recreating me. It might seem trivial, but only by his side did my essential and bare world feel complete. I saw it taking shape and building around us, filling with colors and vivid shades that my eyes couldn't see in his absence, even if they only framed him, the one being I had never grown tired of, and my eyes were never as full as my heart. Reluctantly, I got up; I needed to sleep. But he grabbed my arm, and I turned to look at him, questioning. He was still sitting on the bed. It was a moment that seemed to last forever; everything seemed still, and we were everything. "Don't go," he implored, his warm voice even seductive. Many thoughts had crossed my mind over the years, but I had always considered it a minor desire to have him naked in front of me, even though the prospect didn't displease me at all. I remembered when he had seen me semi-naked, and I was ashamed of myself; those were not the best circumstances. His body told me he needed me; I felt his heart pounding and his features hardening. "Okay," I reassured him. After receiving confirmation, he took off his shiny, elegant shoes and placed them beside the bed. He rolled his socks inside and lay down. I settled next to him, resting his head on my chest. Our roles had reversed; usually, it was me who slept on his sculpted chest. He closed his eyes, and he seemed relaxed, listening to the melody my heart played solely for him. I ran my fingers through his soft hair and could smell the sweet lavender scent I loved so much. I wondered why I hadn't been able to tell him I loved him after all this time. We had to weather the storm; we couldn't let ourselves be carried away by the waves or let ourselves be submerged.