Blessed Monsters (Something Dark and Holy #3) - Emily A. Duncan Page 0,114

A bundle of sage was nailed to the doorway. She could smell incense and found the censer on the table, burning faintly.

Nadya took his hand between hers. He was trembling. What did she even say?

“When you betrayed me, the first time, had you been planning it the whole while?”

A cluster of eyes opened at his throat. He was wearing a loose shirt, black, the ties at the neck undone and open, showing a fair amount of his pale chest. He had cleaned up a little but ash and blood still streaked his skin in places.

He let out a breathless laugh. “I … well, yes and no?”

She toyed with his fingers. His nails were destroyed, the skin around them red and angry.

“I didn’t know what to do when we found you. I never—well—I mostly never lied to you. I didn’t want to give Meleski the power he was asking for and I ran. When we met you, I knew you could be instrumental in turning it all back in my favor. But you were covered in blood and you were furious and all I could do was give you my name and come to the hopeless realization that you made me feel things I didn’t think I could.”

“But that wasn’t enough to stop you.”

“So little is.”

She laughed at that.

“You turned it right back on me.”

“Did you really not suspect it of me?”

He cocked his head. “I’ll answer that, but did you?”

“I spent the entire time in Grazyk suspecting it and hoping I was wrong. You’ve always been too good to be true. Too kind, too gentle, too beautiful. And I’ve been trying to figure out a world I was in no way prepared for while a boy who’s too clever for his own good manipulated me.”

“I didn’t suspect it of you, no. And I have never been good.”

“No, you haven’t. I don’t think you can be. But it came down to impossible choices. I knew what that forest would do to you. I knew when I went down into those mines for you. All we have of each other is our betrayals.” She fell quiet, pressing her fingertips against his. “We have a lot to talk about.”

He nodded. “More than words can fix.” His eyes flickered before focusing on her. “Nadya, can I stay?”

She frowned before she realized what he was asking. Oh.

He rushed on, harried. “I don’t want to be alone.” He paused, considering. “No, I’ll go. You need to rest. We’re not—we didn’t. I don’t want to put you in danger and—”

She kept a firm grip on his hand. “Don’t go,” she whispered. “We can have a good fight about you killing my goddess, later.”

“Only if we fight about you obliterating my country.”

She shifted over, knowing neither was forgivable. Wincing at the pain in her sides, she let him slide into bed next to her, careful space between them. She wanted to kiss him, to feel the press of his body against hers, but she couldn’t make herself reach for him. She didn’t know how to cross the chasm that had been ripped between them.

“Where are we?” she asked, deciding benign questions were safe.

He draped an arm over his forehead. She leaned her head on her elbow, reaching her other hand up and twining her fingers through his. It was safe, holding his hand.

“I have no idea. We’re a few days outside of Komyazalov, deep in the forests. In an abandoned stronghold of some kind.”

“Days?”

“You’ve been out for three days, Nadya.”

“How?”

Something sheepish flickered across his face. “Well, the only way to get you out was with chaos magic—it’s all I have—and it turns out if you weren’t some rather eldritch creation yourself it would have thoroughly obliterated you.”

“Malachiasz.”

“You’re fine! In one piece! Rashid almost tore my head off. Did we know he was a healer?”

“I can’t believe you.”

“I was helping!”

“Is everyone else all right?”

“Varying levels of what that might mean, but alive, yes.”

“Comforting.”

“We are firmly establishing I do not know how to be that.” He ran his thumb over her knuckles.

Nadya considered. “Is it a Vulture hunter’s stronghold, do you think?”

“Oh.” He sounded like that hadn’t occurred to him. “Yes, you’re probably right.”

“Be careful.”

“She murdered Żywia, she should watch her back,” he said darkly. “Why does she still have that relic?”

“I couldn’t stand to have it near me,” she whispered. She didn’t know what she saw in his expression, but it made her sad and uncomfortable. “Is there a scar?”

“What?”

She had the hem of his tunic in her hand,