Sweet Ruin
Page 122
Recognition overwhelmed Rune. “I sit at that table as the Møriør’s archer.” He had become worthy of the name; he’d just never realized it.
“Your arrows are far-reaching. Your arrows are silent. Archers fight from the front line and from the shadows, do they not?”
Assassin and front line. Those are my strengths. Those are my skills. Before, Rune had taken on tasks he’d thought should fall to him, the former whore.
Orion nodded as if Rune had spoken. “The archer’s undoing was how he saw himself.” Orion the Undoing saw weaknesses.
Rune had diminished himself, assigning his own skewed values.
He was about to ask if he was the primordial, then he realized it didn’t matter.
Orion’s lips curled. “Exactly.”
A stray thought: He steers us as Nïx steers her army. If Rune had been concerned about the Valkyrie’s savvy, he was no longer. Orion couldn’t be stopped—
Rune jerked awake. Had Josephine moaned? She was twisting in the sheets, her brow furrowed, her outline flickering.
Nightmare? He’d burdened her with so many memories of torture and pain. . . .
She started to grow intangible. Then to rise. Sleep-ghosting—she’d warned him about this!
“Wake, Josie!” He dove for her hand. To tether her. She grasped his in sleep.
He began to disembody with her. “Whoa, you need to wake up, love!” His voice sounded faint and ghostly.
His heart thundered when they began to levitate. “You have to rouse yourself!”
Her eyes were squeezed closed, her body limp. They ascended past the ceiling. Past the roof. Into the night.
“Josephine!” he bellowed. They were drifting through the rain into the storm clouds. Higher. Higher. She wasn’t going to wake!
Then so be it. “Josephine, understand me—wherever we’re going . . . we’re going to be together.” He pulled her close and kissed her.
SEVENTY-THREE
Jo blinked open her eyes. Rune was kissing her? When she stiffened against him, he drew his head back.
“Dream?” she asked.
His brows were drawn, eyes wild. “Not quite.”
She frowned. She wasn’t in bed? No, he was outside with her. The air felt really thin. And cold. She peered up. The stars burned bright.
Too bright.
She met his gaze—read their situation from the alarm in his expression. “I sleep-ghosted?”
“Yes, love.” He swallowed. “Up.”
She didn’t want to look. “Wh-where are we?”
He gave a curt nod. In other words, Yes, it’s that bad.
“Why are you with me?”
He grated, “Because that’s where I bloody belong.”
She peered down. Sucked in a breath. Panicked.
She started to embody, her stomach lurching as they plummeted.
As soon as she’d solidified enough, Rune coiled his arms around her and traced them to her bed.
“Ah, gods, Josephine.” He tucked her into his lap, his lungs heaving.
“Wh-what happened?” Panting, she clung to him, savoring his heat and strength, inhaling his scent.
“We went for a trip.” His heart pounded at her ear.
“I took you with me?”
With his chin on her head, he nodded. “You turned intangible and began to rise. I tried to wake you, barely catching your grip in time.” He pressed his lips against her hair.
Catching her grip? “Why didn’t you let me go? I know how scared of heights you are.”
He drew back. “I will never let you go.” He cradled her face in his hands. “Wherever you were headed—I don’t give a fuck—that’s where I want to be as well.”
He’d been her anchor, refusing to release her. Just as she’d always wanted.
Then she remembered.
“I’ve missed you so much, Josie—”
She pushed at his chest until he eased his hold. “How did you know where I was?” She scrambled off the bed, standing to face him.
He stood as well. “I’ve known since that night at Val Hall.” He was unshaven, with dark circles under his eyes. He’d lost weight, his jeans hanging looser than usual.
“You’ve been spying on me!”
He nodded shamelessly. “I’ve lived in the carriage house for the last week.”
Then he’d overheard every conversation between her and Thad. “You need to go. Not doing this here. I’m not doing this with you.”
“Please. Give me five minutes.”
She glared, rubbing her arms. She was freezing in only a T-shirt—since it’d been chilly in the stratosphere.
“You’re cold.” He crossed to her, removing his coat. “Take my jacket.”
Ignoring him, she traced to her closet for clothes. “I can’t believe you’ve been right there all week,” she called as she yanked on jeans. “Why not show yourself?”
“An ally pointed out I shouldn’t barge in on your bonding with Thad. You’d waited more than half your life to reunite with him. I decided nothing should interrupt you two.”
She snatched on a hoodie, her anger seething. She’d been in a good place with hating him. Then he had to go and follow her into space and all. “You were spying on me—except for when you went out to score?” She returned to her room. “The demon in you needs to get off multiple times a day, right?”
He closed the distance between them with two strides of his long legs. Standing too close, he gazed down at her. “The demon in me is mated. As is the fey. Both are quite happy about this.”
“Your arrows are far-reaching. Your arrows are silent. Archers fight from the front line and from the shadows, do they not?”
Assassin and front line. Those are my strengths. Those are my skills. Before, Rune had taken on tasks he’d thought should fall to him, the former whore.
Orion nodded as if Rune had spoken. “The archer’s undoing was how he saw himself.” Orion the Undoing saw weaknesses.
Rune had diminished himself, assigning his own skewed values.
He was about to ask if he was the primordial, then he realized it didn’t matter.
Orion’s lips curled. “Exactly.”
A stray thought: He steers us as Nïx steers her army. If Rune had been concerned about the Valkyrie’s savvy, he was no longer. Orion couldn’t be stopped—
Rune jerked awake. Had Josephine moaned? She was twisting in the sheets, her brow furrowed, her outline flickering.
Nightmare? He’d burdened her with so many memories of torture and pain. . . .
She started to grow intangible. Then to rise. Sleep-ghosting—she’d warned him about this!
“Wake, Josie!” He dove for her hand. To tether her. She grasped his in sleep.
He began to disembody with her. “Whoa, you need to wake up, love!” His voice sounded faint and ghostly.
His heart thundered when they began to levitate. “You have to rouse yourself!”
Her eyes were squeezed closed, her body limp. They ascended past the ceiling. Past the roof. Into the night.
“Josephine!” he bellowed. They were drifting through the rain into the storm clouds. Higher. Higher. She wasn’t going to wake!
Then so be it. “Josephine, understand me—wherever we’re going . . . we’re going to be together.” He pulled her close and kissed her.
SEVENTY-THREE
Jo blinked open her eyes. Rune was kissing her? When she stiffened against him, he drew his head back.
“Dream?” she asked.
His brows were drawn, eyes wild. “Not quite.”
She frowned. She wasn’t in bed? No, he was outside with her. The air felt really thin. And cold. She peered up. The stars burned bright.
Too bright.
She met his gaze—read their situation from the alarm in his expression. “I sleep-ghosted?”
“Yes, love.” He swallowed. “Up.”
She didn’t want to look. “Wh-where are we?”
He gave a curt nod. In other words, Yes, it’s that bad.
“Why are you with me?”
He grated, “Because that’s where I bloody belong.”
She peered down. Sucked in a breath. Panicked.
She started to embody, her stomach lurching as they plummeted.
As soon as she’d solidified enough, Rune coiled his arms around her and traced them to her bed.
“Ah, gods, Josephine.” He tucked her into his lap, his lungs heaving.
“Wh-what happened?” Panting, she clung to him, savoring his heat and strength, inhaling his scent.
“We went for a trip.” His heart pounded at her ear.
“I took you with me?”
With his chin on her head, he nodded. “You turned intangible and began to rise. I tried to wake you, barely catching your grip in time.” He pressed his lips against her hair.
Catching her grip? “Why didn’t you let me go? I know how scared of heights you are.”
He drew back. “I will never let you go.” He cradled her face in his hands. “Wherever you were headed—I don’t give a fuck—that’s where I want to be as well.”
He’d been her anchor, refusing to release her. Just as she’d always wanted.
Then she remembered.
“I’ve missed you so much, Josie—”
She pushed at his chest until he eased his hold. “How did you know where I was?” She scrambled off the bed, standing to face him.
He stood as well. “I’ve known since that night at Val Hall.” He was unshaven, with dark circles under his eyes. He’d lost weight, his jeans hanging looser than usual.
“You’ve been spying on me!”
He nodded shamelessly. “I’ve lived in the carriage house for the last week.”
Then he’d overheard every conversation between her and Thad. “You need to go. Not doing this here. I’m not doing this with you.”
“Please. Give me five minutes.”
She glared, rubbing her arms. She was freezing in only a T-shirt—since it’d been chilly in the stratosphere.
“You’re cold.” He crossed to her, removing his coat. “Take my jacket.”
Ignoring him, she traced to her closet for clothes. “I can’t believe you’ve been right there all week,” she called as she yanked on jeans. “Why not show yourself?”
“An ally pointed out I shouldn’t barge in on your bonding with Thad. You’d waited more than half your life to reunite with him. I decided nothing should interrupt you two.”
She snatched on a hoodie, her anger seething. She’d been in a good place with hating him. Then he had to go and follow her into space and all. “You were spying on me—except for when you went out to score?” She returned to her room. “The demon in you needs to get off multiple times a day, right?”
He closed the distance between them with two strides of his long legs. Standing too close, he gazed down at her. “The demon in me is mated. As is the fey. Both are quite happy about this.”
