The Deathsinger: Book 2

Ch. 20: Consumed

Remiel

Darkness masked all but the faintest lines of Morana's slumbering form, but I could not bring myself to stop looking at her. She had fought to stay awake to listen to stories of Araphel, but I knew the moment sleep claimed her. Had felt her hand relax in mine.

The moon had crossed the sky's peak since then, settling closer to the eastern horizon, where it would trade places with the morning sun in a few hours. I should get some rest because who knew what horrors awaited us tomorrow, but every time I closed my eyes, they sprung back open. Starving for proof that she was here. Alive and well.

"Fool," I whispered.

She was never supposed to be more than a means to an end. It was something I'd told myself often since that night I'd stormed through the dungeons in Edresh to rescue her, and when I saw the collar around her neck, the rage it sparked was for what it represented. Not because it was around her neck, specifically.

I risked life and limb in Friedesh to save her life because we could find no other Deathsingers to lift the veil off immortal souls. It certainly wasn't because I'd seen how deep the terror etched in her face as monsters she could not see stalked her, or because I wanted to know what it felt like to have her soft curves pressed against my body.

And that icy burn that went through my bones whenever Tievel touched her... Well, it was disgust, not jealousy. That she could be so love struck to not see the darkness in him still baffled me.

Any chance I had of continuing to lie to myself was gone the day the prince took her from me in Jorridor's capital city. The moment the shadows burst out of my skin, I fucking knew I was doomed, and by the time the Shadow Brothers found me, I was half mad.

"Mara," Morana whimpered, drawing me out of the bleak memories. Her grip on my hand tightened.

Frowning, I inched closer to her and ran my free hand over her face. Gods, she was warm. Feverish, almost. And had she said the name Mara? Perhaps she was dreaming of Lake Mara since I'd mentioned it before she fell asleep, but I doubted it. A place so serene could never cause such torment, and that left only one other option.

A bit of black hair had come loose from her braids, and I brushed it away from her face, letting my knuckles graze across her high cheekbone. How many times had I imagined touching her like this? Sliding my hand across her face and down to the base of her skull. So much lush midnight hair to bury my fingers into and pull tight.

I banished the lewd thoughts. Though they plagued me almost constantly, I would not think of them while I touched her. At least not while she slept, and not until she was a willing participant. An ache pulsed through me at that thought. Would she ever burn for me the way I burned for her?

"Mara, please!"

Blisters formed on my knuckles, and I jerked my hand away, holding it against my chest. Horror seized me, freezing the breath in my lungs as a bright orange glow spread beneath her skin.

"Morana!"

She was a beacon of light. The darkness bolted, and I had to shield my eyes against the glare. Her back arched on her bedroll, setting it ablaze. It was almost unbearable to be so close to her.

Black shadows surged from my body. They whipped around her fiery form, choking the flames and protecting me from the heat. I stared in awe. My brothers had not told me the shadows held that kind of power.

Morana shot upright, gasping. A faint glow remained in her cheeks, and somehow, her clothes had not burned. With a groan, she turned to the side and vomited.

"You're okay," I told her, moving my hand in circles over her back as she heaved.

"Thank you, Remiel."