“Don’t worry. They’re both for me.”
A few minutes later, Mikel slams down two foamy pints. The coin I slide across the drink-splattered table disappears into his meaty fist. I drink deep, letting the frosty liquid numb the ache in my soul. Bell settles against the cushioned bench, his ankle thrown across his knee, scrubbing at a bit of dirt on his boot with his thumb.
He looks so fucking content. It’s been so long since I felt even a semblance of contentment.
I set down my empty glass but don’t bother reaching for the second. “What is wrong with me?” On paper, I have everything, and yet I feel so empty inside.
Bell drops his hand with a heavy sigh, watching me in that unnerving way of his. “You don’t want me to answer that.”
“Actually, I do.” Maybe his answer will be what finally makes me better.
Bell’s silver-clad shoulders rise and fall with another sigh. “You love a ghost, sire. And when you love a ghost, you become one.”
A ghost. That is what I am. My body and presence are required, but nothing more. Not my opinions or my feelings. I could be screaming, and no one would hear, like I’m already on the other side of the veil, just another specter watching life pass him by.
“You think I should stop fighting, don’t you?” I’m not sure why I ask. The answer is all but written on his face.
He shifts on his seat, his gray gaze searching mine. “I believe that continuing to deny your destiny will only lead to folly.”
My destiny is to marry a woman I do not love and live in a kingdom I have no fondness for, all for the sake of adding to my family’s “legacy.” At least in Nimbiss, I’ll be away from Boris. That is something, isn’t it?
My fingers slip around the second pint, and I take a drink.
At least Leeri is comely. And her personality isn’tthatterrible. She has been nice to Kyff, hasn’t she? All I have to do is produce a few heirs and my duty will be done. A few more years, and I’ll be free.
Free.
The last time I felt free was four years ago, in another realm, with a woman who had the most beautiful laugh. I run my fingeralong the scar on my left hand that no one knows exists, aching all the way to my worthless soul.
This pain is too much to bear. I hate that I’m weak. That I need a crutch to get me through the long, lonely nights.
But there is no point in fighting the darkness because the darkness always wins.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, pushing to my feet.
Bell’s calloused fingers wrap around my wrist. “I want your word that you will not leave the privy glowing like a fucking lantern.”
“You have it.”
The fool lets me go.
Part of me feels guilty for lying to the man, but the drink hasn’t done a damned thing to take away this eternal ache. I need something stronger.
I head into the men’s privy, make sure the room is empty, and check the secret compartment only to find nothing there.Dammit. The dust should’ve been restocked by now. How many days has it been since I was last here? Three? Four?
I brace my hands on the edge of the sink, watching the blood from the fresh wound drip toward the drain. When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I barely recognize the man staring back. Gods, my face needs a shave. And the barber butchered my hair, cutting it so short on the sides that I can barely run my fingers through it.
In this light, the tattoos on my knuckles look stark against my skin as I scratch my throat. My body is marked inside and out by a woman I knew only a handful of months four years ago.
My mate.
A breath shudders out of me.
Bell is right. Only a fool would let the past wreck his future. I should pick up what pieces remain and try to make a life for myself.
But first, one final goodbye.
When I peek out the door, I see Bell speaking with the bartender, blocking the exit. Looks like I’ll have to find another way out. Back in the privy, I search the block walls and black ceiling. There, in the very back corner, is a vent. At least, I think it’s a vent. It’s hard to tell since it is blacked out like the rest of the walls in this place.