This is Emmorta

28 The House of Self-Undoing

Rune

It happens like my dream in a near identical experience.

Whatever I can positively call that stuff—Fate's blood, shed skin, whatever holds him together—it swallows me down, and instead of fighting it, I embrace what meets me at the bottom with the same vigor charged in my veins since yesterday.

A cool, hard floor, that is. I meet it with a hard thump that knocks the breath from my lungs. The room is exactly as I saw it; only my breath fogs in front of me from the temperature drop. The noises from outside have muted, severing any connection with the girls outside. Now, they're well and truly alone.

Therese falls beside me. Her lifeless body dumps against the hard floor, facing upward. Blood drips from her ear while her bulging eyes remain frozen, glued to the image of my face before the light diminished.

Angling my head to the side, a rush forces my vision blurry and head in a funny state before I can shake out of it.

I was right. I knew it, and I went with my gut, and I was right. He signaled me here and revealed this to me. Whether he's here or somewhere else, I'll need to get out before he finds me. If he sees me, I'll be forced to act prematurely.

When my vision clears, it's there, on that same table. An inanimate object people have waged wars over; this solution everyone seems to think will resolve all issues. It's there, waiting for me.

Palms to the floor, I lift my knees and straighten my form and ready myself. On the balls of my feet and spine straight, my right foot barely lifts when he sighs. Instead of something long-suffering, it's unexpectedly positive.

Unlike the dream, where sleep paralyzed my movements, I'm held in place because something in me refuses to move. Phantom. He ignores my desire to run and plants us firmly on the ground with our only answer clear across the room.

Wait, he pleads.

This isn't the time to stall. We didn't do all of this to freeze.

Fate's easy stride, the confidence and power in his gaze holding mine, the way his tongue swipes over his fangs all hold us captive. The featherlight steps and air of confidence communicate the same thing: he's waited for this moment, but for how long? Has he always known?

I study the curl of his mouth reaching his eyes, and wonder if that's admiration beaming from him, or dominance. Still stalled, my bones tremble, like my body knows to fear him, but I haven't caught up just yet.

There is no one else here. The first time I met Fate, Lucifer stood like a buffer, and Fate restrained himself. The second time, Royal sacrificed himself when he sent me away, and I ran. The third time, there were too many distractions. The fourth time, he was focused on Orion. And now, this time? This time, it's the two of us, and no one in between.

With that satisfaction clear in his face, he towers over Therese's corpse. Bending, he grabs her up by the shirt. Her limbs hang heavy below her as he brings her up to his chest. He runs his nose over her chest, neck, ears. He breathes heavily between his lips, placing kisses along her jawline while I'm in the center of his vision. I follow the track of his eyes, like fingertips I can feel running down my face and chest.

"You brought her home to me, and I doubted you. Your loyalty will be rewarded," he whispers to her.

I grip Alex's knife in my trembling hand. An uneasiness rankles inside me, allowing that pit inside my chest to fester into a storm. She knew what would happen. She knew I was going to kill her, so she could be rewarded. No, I shouldn't have killed her this time. I should have done it the first time.