Soul in Darkness Read online

  My mouth went completely dry at her ominous tone, but I couldn’t bear to lift the teacup with my trembling hand.

  “Her tale is ringing true with what you have told us,” Miracle said, picking up the story where Dawn left off, speaking more gently. “She said that he is a creature of many faces, able to change his appearance at will. But his true form, the one he takes while sleeping, is the serpent.”

  “Everything is all right,” I assured them and myself. The thought that he could shift, that he was a serpent at night, was unnerving, but it was not the worst thing possible, was it? I started to lift the cup to wet my parched throat when Dawn began again, her words coming faster.

  “His goal is to lure you into a false sense of security, Psyche. To gain your trust and seduce you, body and heart. Once you completely succumb to him, giving him your heart, that is when he will strike. He thrives on human emotions. He is a soul-sucking beast!”

  Her eyes were wild, and I dropped the teacup over the saucer with a clatter. My hands shook, and my heart raced. Soul-sucking.

  “That is not true!” I shook my head, sickened by the old doubt rearing its head again. “I will not believe some crone’s gossip!”

  Miracle stood and came around to me, kneeling at my feet and taking both of my hands in my lap. “You must believe us, sister. What reason would we ever have to cause you undue pain? Look how you tremble. You know there is truth in our words.”

  I shook my head and shut my eyes. “No.”

  “This is no way to live, sister,” Miracle said. “I know, and I am sorry. I wish I could steal you away this very moment, but we both know I cannot. You must be strong. Can you do that for us? Because the seer said one more thing.”

  I sniffed, my chest heaving. “What?”

  “She said his powers over you cannot last forever. If the creature cannot seduce you into loving him within a certain time, his power over you is lost. We aren’t sure what that means, but we are hoping you will get to return home. Or be released to live your own life in this realm at the very least. Can you do that, Psyche? Can you stay strong, my love?”

  A sob choked out of me, and Miracle came up on her knees, hugging me hard. I hugged her back. My heart felt as if it were being cleaved completely in two. How could this be? How could my instincts have been so wrong?

  “If you have any doubts remaining,” Dawn said fervently from the other side of the table. “There is one way to prove this to yourself.”

  “How?” I asked.

  She smiled, and it was the cunning grin she used to give me when she wanted to do something that would get us into trouble.

  “At night, as he sleeps, light a flame and have a look at his face.”

  My heart jumped inside my chest. “What if he wakes?”

  “Only light it for a split moment, just long enough to get a glimpse of his face, and then quickly blow it out. But if he wakes…” She pulled a small blade from her pocket, and bile rose in my throat. “Stab him here.” Dawn pointed the tip of the knife in the tender spot under her chin.

  Nervousness wracked me. Our two primary rules: I could not see him, and I could not touch him. If I broke one of those rules, the game was over. Unless he’d made up those rules and the game so that I wouldn’t discover his true self. Oh, gods. My stomach lurched at the thought that the man I’d come to love had been fooling me in the worst sort of manner. I pressed a hand to my abdomen.

  “I do not have means to light a flame,” I said. “He lights and extinguishes them all with his powers.”

  Dawn and Miracle both reached into their pockets. Of course. I had always kept fire starters in my pocket at home, too. I took Miracle’s flint and oil-dipped pine stick with a shaking hand, feeling as if I might pass out. She covered my closed hand with her own.

  “You were always fearless,” she said. “Remember who you are. You are that same girl who kept every guard at the castle on their toes. You are the soul of our isle. You are Princess Psyche. You cannot let him win.”

  I nodded, though I felt none of that strength right now. I didn’t want to believe them, even when it made sense, which it did. I wanted to run over the hills and through the trees, straight into the river and let it rise over my head.

  No. I brushed away that thought. Hurting myself was just another way to let him win. Dawn slipped the blade into my palm, and I pocketed all of the items, sick to death.

  The door to the palace opened, and we all jumped to our feet.

  “Renae?” I called.

  “Yes, Highness,” she responded from the steps. “I am very sorry to interrupt, but the carrier is here and will await your sisters at the foot of the hills. I do hope you enjoyed your time together.” Oh, heat of Hades, she sounded so believable. Did she know the truth of my husband? Surely, she must. The two of them together had soundly tricked me, and the bitter sting of betrayal cut deep. It felt as if I had lost two people I’d come to love.

  She clomped back inside and shut the doors, and I turned to my sisters, hugging them fiercely. I didn’t want to let them go. They pried themselves away, calling back to me with worried eyes and encouraging words as they left. The carrier, Zep, or whoever he was, remained invisible to me. When my sisters were out of sight, I crumpled beside my chair, all of the heartache, loneliness and deception building up to a rolling boil inside of me.

  I lifted my face to the sky, that false, vivid blue, and I screamed.

  ONE LITTLE CANDLE

  Was it really only this morning I had felt lighthearted and filled with hope? Even the animals could not break through to me as I dragged myself to the bedchamber with no will to eat or bathe or even think. I felt as if I would die if I didn’t learn the truth.

  Was my husband the malicious soul-sucker my family believed him to be? Or was the seer a madwoman? If only so many of her details did not coincide perfectly with what I knew of him and our situation.

  I sat as still as death in a chair, hugging my middle, my eyes unfocused. I desperately wanted to erase the entire conversation from my mind. My heart ached, and I questioned everything, even my own character, because part of me would rather have died with my heart full of love for him than to find out the truth.

  A wave of nausea rolled over me and I closed my eyes, rocking back and forth. The remainder of the day slipped through my fingers as I chanted silently in my mind, “It cannot be true. He is not a monster. Please, let them be wrong.”

  “Princess?” Renae asked softly from the doorway.

  I startled, tensing, my eyes shooting open.

  “I am sorry to disturb you, Highness. Can I bring you tea and something to eat? I noticed the brunch food was untouched.”

  “No,” I said, feeling cold. “I want to be alone.”

  “Very well.” She sounded sad. She was a very good actress. Even Mino and Sphinx trotted out of the room after her, leaving me.

  I stared about the room until I spotted the smallest candle in a hand-holder on the desk. Quickly, I stood and plucked it from its place, moving it to a table closer to the bed, then shoved the flint, pine stick, and knife under my pillow. My pulse raced, and I felt as if I might choke. I knew, deep in my soul, even if he were truly evil, I would not be able to stab him. The blade was useless.

  I went to the windows and opened them wide, watching Mino run below. My heart gave a squeeze. What would happen to my sweet animals if I were killed? If I’d been thinking straight, I might have sent them home with Miracle and Dawn to be sure they’d remain safe. My fingers touched my lips as I watched them play, rolling in the soft grass together.

  Awareness filled my chest and a great flapping sounded from afar. Both of the animals stopped to peer up, and then lowered to their bellies, rolling onto their backs. The unmistakable sound of my husband’s laugh rose up, tickling my skin before the happy sensation turned into a rock in the pit of my gut. Did he know I was watching? Is that why he put on such a display, petting the animals?

  Murmured voices rose now, but I couldn’t
make out the words. I believed he was speaking with Renae. Moments later, a great flapping sounded again, and the puppy and kitten were rising into the air toward the window.

  He was coming. My innards felt as if I were jumping, though I stood in place unmoving. I stepped back, crossing my arms as if I could protect my heart.

  “Psyche.” It sounded like true worry in his voice. Damn him. “Renae says you were quite upset when your sisters left. I worried it would be difficult for you.”

  “Yes, well.” I cleared my throat, trying to cease the quaver of my voice. “I will be fine. I’m just tired now.” I turned and went to my closet, closing myself in and quickly changing into a nightgown. When I came out, I climbed straight into the bed and pulled the covers up to my chin, rolling into a ball on my side. I felt for the objects under my pillow, making sure they were hidden. Guilt filled me. Sphinx nestled above my head, and Mino behind my knees.

  He would never buy that I was sleepy. I was far too tense, and the scent of fear was undoubtedly wafting from me. I held my breath when I felt him sit on the edge of the bed before me. His hand brushed back the hair on my forehead and I nearly burst into tears at the contact. It felt so real—his concern—and yet I wanted to recoil from him.

  “Wife,” he whispered. “Will you not speak to me?”

  I had prepared what to say, but when it came out it sounded rehearsed and fake. “I thought a visit would be good, but it makes me miss them even more. I am afraid they will forget me.”

  “Hm.”

  My teeth ground together. His hand continued to stroke my hair, and I wanted to rail at him to leave me alone. That touch only muddled my mind further.

  “Did they say something to upset you?” he asked. I cursed his perceptiveness. “Because this seems to be something more than simply missing them.”

  “N-no.” My heart took off at a gallop. He’d done well learning me. Lying to him was useless.

  “They do not believe that I am what you say I am.” His touch continued to be gentle, and his words were soothing. I buried my face deeper in the blankets so that only my eyes were showing, and I wouldn’t look at him. I had to answer. I had to put him at ease.

  “A woman frightened them at the temple. A seer. But I told them she was a mad old crone.”

  His hand went still on my head, which made me hold my breath.

  “A seer.” He chuckled darkly, then stood. His footsteps were not as light as usual. His wings made rapid whooshing sounds as if opening and closing in agitation. “I should have known better. What a fool I was.” It seemed as if he spoke to himself, not me, until he said, “The opponent found a loophole, knowing I would be weak.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He was quiet. “The seer was not what she seemed. She was a ploy. I can say no more.” A shout of complete frustration escaped him, making me jump.

  Immediately, he was on the bed crouching over me, his wings enveloping us in a silent cocoon, his full lips kissing the side of my face as he pushed back my hair.

  “I know you were frightened.” He kissed me again and let out that ancient curse, his head turned to the side. His voice held a desperation that wrecked me. “You must not ask me for visitors again. Not until the game is complete. You have been right to trust your instincts, and I was wrong to go against mine. It will not happen again.” As he held me, hot tears stung my eyes. I wanted to believe him. I had never wanted anything more. But those feelings of trust had been loosely woven, at best, and now the threads were too frayed to repair without proof.

  “Can we sleep?” I asked. “I will feel better tomorrow.”

  For a long moment he was quiet, the air heavy between us. Then the room went dark and I felt him shift over top of me, moving to mold his body to mine from behind. His hold on me was tight, as if fraught by worry. I did not doubt his high emotions for one moment; it was the motivation behind the emotion that I doubted. Was he upset because he knew his dark plans had been foiled; because our opponent had gotten to my sisters and me, causing me to question what was between us? Or because he was truly worried about my well-being and that we were now set back from our game’s “goal?”

  All I knew for a fact was that if he was an enemy, he was the most dangerous enemy possible, because when I was with him, my heart, my body, and my soul wanted him. Even now, I felt myself melting into his touch, wanting to pretend my sisters had never come and poisoned me against him. I wanted to ease his mind.

  “Everything will be all right, Husband,” I whispered.

  He held me tighter. “Do you recall the elements of a game that we spoke of?”

  I thought about it. “Opponents and teammates?”

  “Not that one.”

  “Earning points or having an end goal?”

  “No. What else?” He sounded almost panicked.

  “Having a time limit?”

  “Yes.” My chest jumped when his face pressed against the side of my head, his despair apparent. “Go back in your mind to this morning, before your sisters came. Can you feel it?”

  The burst of love that had overcome me. Oh, how I wished I had not pushed for their visit. I swallowed and whispered, “Yes.”

  “Go back to that place in your mind, Psyche. We have worked so hard. Go back.”

  “I want to.” A tear slipped from my eye, and he wiped it away, kissing the spot. I wanted nothing more than to go back, yet here I was, at an impasse. As we lay together with his arms and scent surrounding me, options of how to move forward tumbled through my mind. What was I to do? What was I to believe? In the end, one thought blinded me, overpowering all others.

  My soul was too high a price to pay for a possible false love.

  Sleep was a long time coming.

  A zap of panic woke me in the darkness of night. My husband’s breaths were steady behind me. I remained still for a moment, wide awake, my heart beating like a Gladiator’s in the stadium.

  It was time to discover the truth.

  I took my time slowly nudging myself out of his hold, waiting to see if my movement would wake him, but he was sound asleep. I silently tip-toed to the table, feeling in the dark for the candle’s holder. I found it and rushed quietly back to the bed. I slipped my other hand under the pillow, pulling out the lighters. Holding my breath, I angled the tip of the oiled pine stick to the rough flint and pressed hard, swiping to the side. The small crackling sound made my heart skip a beat, and the sudden bright light near my eyes caused me to blink.

  I lowered the tiny flame to the candle and lit the wick, my hand shaking like mad.

  Moment of truth.

  My hand slowly raised over the bed, and my other hand covered my mouth against a gasp of astonishment as my husband’s form became clear in the dim light.

  Gloriously golden skin was on display, not a single scale in sight, the muscle defined and apparent. His masculine hand stretched out, near me, his fingers splayed over the spot where I’d been sleeping. His hair reminded me of ice—a divine color I’d never seen on a human. But his face…

  In the back of my mind a voice was screaming for me to put out the candle, but I was too mesmerized. His face was perfection. Every defined angle. The darkest, thickest lashes. And those bow-shaped lips. They were as full as they felt, and so beautiful my chest ached. Behind him lay giant, majestic wings of white, tipped in smoke gray.

  This was no monster. My eyes darted to beside the bed and took in the golden bow and a quiver of ornate arrows. A tremor ran through me as realization slammed my soul like a tidal wave.

  My husband was a god. The god of love. Cupid himself.

  I yanked the candle back to extinguish it, and as I did, a drop of hot wax dripped straight onto my husband’s hand. It happened so fast, and yet so slow.

  He sucked in a sharp breath and his eyes opened. I froze, falling into those blue depths, more exquisite than anything I had ever seen.

  “Psyche?” he whispered, his eyes going to my face, then the candle. “What have you done?” Hi
s voice, full of horror, was not the voice I’d come to know. It was as if the rough, scratchy layers had been scraped away to reveal the sensual melody hidden underneath.

  I shook my head, stepping back, shaking, my jaw unhinging and my voice dead. In my movements, the pillow had shifted, and Cupid caught sight of the blade.

  “Were you to kill me, Wife?” His eyes bore into mine, the pain there causing my mouth to open and close, my head to shake back and forth. “You know I am immortal.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “I was…I would never—” Again, I gaped.

  He leapt from the bed with inhuman grace, wearing a warrior’s pleated wrap around his waist. Landing before me, he blew out the candle and grasped my upper arms, giving me a small shake in the darkness.

  “Quickly,” he said. “Tell me how you feel, Psyche.”

  “I am sorry!” I wanted to collapse. I had been so wrong.

  “Not an apology! Your feelings!”

  “I feel horrible,” I shouted.

  “Your feelings about me!”

  “I love you!” As soon as I said it, I knew it was what he wanted all along—my love. And I knew, without a doubt, that it was too late. “I broke the rules.” A sob of disbelief and shame tumbled from my throat. “Oh, gods! What have I done?” I wanted to sink to the ground, but he held my arms tight.

  Daylight filled the room, and my husband still stood there before me, larger than life, so real and beyond beautiful.

  “I will fix this.” With a fierce look, filled with all the things he had never said, he turned and bolted through the room, through the window, wings tucked tightly behind him and then shooting outward in an ethereal arc when he hit the air. I could only stare as he flew away.

  Fast clomping came from the hall and the door to my bedchamber burst open. A short, rotund, middle-aged woman stood there. Well, a woman on the top half, and goat on the bottom half. She smacked a hand over her mouth as I looked her up and down.

  “Renae?”