Your Dark Gospel (Complete)

Chapter Twenty-Four

The doors to Elira’s rooms swung open as she rushed inside, desperate to silence the laughter and music that still drifted through the corridor. She imagined her companions were still at dinner, if you could call it that, relishing their well-earned respite. But despite the hunger that rumbled in her belly, she did not wish to rejoin them.

He will not give you what you truly desire.

Raphael’s words lingered like a foul taste in her mouth.

He was messing with her—manipulating her—and yet…

“What in the hells happened to you?” Astarion’s voice drawled from the extravagant four-poster bed at the center of the room. He lay atop a silk duvet, propped up on his elbows beside a silver tray laden with an assortment of cheeses, cold meats, and various pastries.

The wine she had drunk earlier had dulled the hunger that had started to gnaw at her, but it had returned with a sharp twist in her stomach. She inhaled the scent of herbal seasonings that wafted in the air, longing to stuff a fistful of cheese into her mouth. Instead, she trudged further into the room, heading toward a gilded vanity with a plush velvet stool adorned with shimmering pearls.

After Raphael had left her alone in the steamy pool, she’d had no choice but to change back into her gown lest she wander the halls wet and naked—a plan she had briefly considered. The gauzy red fabric fought against her as she forced her wet skin through, pulling it over her body in place of a towel, and without servants to help lace her back, she was forced to hold the gown in place as she made her way through the corridors, borrowed shoes in hand. The trail of water left in her wake was like that of a slug.

She was a veritable mess.

“You look like a drowned rat.” Astarion’s reflection smirked at her in the mirror as he popped a small round pastry into his mouth and grimaced as though it were something sour.

Elira loosed breath and pushed the wet strands of hair that had escaped her braid out of her face. “I thought you’d be at the party.”

Astarion flopped onto the pillows behind him. “I thought you might want a middle night cuddle. Or a snack. Perhaps both.” He raised his head so that she could see his face in the mirror. “I tried to follow the tether, but… well… I got a little lost.” His voice slurred. “A servant helped me find your room.”

Elira focused on the jewels at her neck, gently unclasping the strand of rubies and tossing it into a velvet-lined box on the vanity. She started pulling off the rings next, discarding the jewelry provided by their gracious host.

He will not give you what you truly desire.

Raphael’s words had infected her mind, and Astarion was so drunk. The fact that he’d needed help to find her spoke to just how drunk he was. She looked at his relaxed posture on the bed, the slightly dazed smile that graced his handsome face. Now certainly wasn’t the time to bring up what Raphael had said to her.

Or perhaps it was.

“You seemed rather busy entertaining the other guests. I didn’t think you’d notice my absence.”

Astarion let out an exaggerated sigh. “Jealous darling?”

“Why should I be jealous?” A laugh capped Elira’s words, but her features were devoid of humor. “I am the one you want at your side as an equal, am I not?”