ANEW ||

I Am No Islander.

When the pressure of Alaric's magic swept over her, Mari felt like she should have been more prepared. She should have known what she would see when the falling and folding of the layers of the veil finally stopped. She should have known.

The simple fact of where Elijah's inner demon had taken him made what was left of her heart crack into pieces. Her knees wobbled, her shoulders quaking with a sob she wouldn't let slip from her lips.

The lake house.

More specifically, the day she'd ruined her own face.

And there he was. Not Elijah and not the demon, but a blend between the two halves she'd grown to love. She could tell, the way the demonic portion of Elijah's soul was pushed forward, was the simplest of kindnesses. She knew her mate would be in agonizing pain.

Hellion was talking, she didn't pay attention to the words. Her feet moved on their own accord, Alaric's hand slipping from her own. The snow made no sound under her boots, as if she wasn't even here. Just a shadow moving about this horrible vision. Each step she took closer made each second more agonizing.

He didn't move, didn't even register her presence.

Her boots fell into the packed part of snow, the red the only colour in this place. The memories that took hold of her threatened to make a sob crash from her throat. The scars on her face burned with renewed heat.

"Hello," she said, her voice coming out soft.

He did not move. The hallow blackness of his eyes were still fixed on that spot in the snow at her feet. She wasn't even sure he was breathing.

"Hello," she said again, her fingers settling on his arm.

Black eyes moved with exhaustion to meet her own. They fixated on her face. She still didn't think he was breathing.

"Daughter of gods," he said, around a mouth full of pointed gleaming teeth. His voice wasn't Elijah's, the timber too grainy, the words too deep. As if he used his magic to pull every syllable up from the underworld.

This wasn't the first time she'd laid eyes upon Elijah's other half, nor a blend of the two. He was how she remembered from all those evenings together. She could almost see the black trails his fingers leave on her skin, mixing in with the scars on her knees. Even his sharp face was familiar. This was normal for her, utterly normal for Mari to fall asleep at night with Elijah only to wake up ours later wrapped up in the arms of Deavul.

That never unsettled her. This, the distance at which this demon looked at her now? It was as if she was a distant memory, maybe even some sort of fever dream. There wasn't even a flicker of recognition in his bottomless eyes.

Mari took in a shallow breath. "I have a favour to ask you."

The creature worked its jaw, the hallow cheeks sucking in as his teeth gnashed together. "I do not give favours to islanders."

Her hand shot out from where she'd dropped it at her side. Mari's fingers closed around his wrist, her nails digging into his too pale flesh. She felt her own eyes turn wholly black, the sapphire blue fading away. Ebony wings pushed from her back and she felt her neck pulse as she pushed the black scales up her throat, exposing them. Flames the colour of night flicked along the tops of her wings. She thrummed with it, the power, the unending bottomless pit that was the dividend. "I am no islander," Mari said, her tone turning gravelly in her mouth.

His gaze travelled to where she gripped his wrist, the wrist that dripped with black blood. Her talons had pierced his flesh.

"You are her."