Demon Gate (Demons of Morningstar Book 3) by Debbie Cassidy

Author:Debbie Cassidy [Cassidy, Debbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-12T16:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Eight

MALLINI

It feels like an age since I was in this room. It’s a mess, as usual. Charod was never a neat person. I always tidied up after him, and truth be told, I’d been relieved when Mother had given us separate chambers, but even then, he’d snuck into my room at night to curl up beside me. We’d slept holding hands every night. No liaison or conquest had kept us apart. We’d never stayed with any lover overnight.

We’d returned to each other, unable to settle without hearing the other’s heartbeat. I’d often wondered what would happen when one of us fell in love. Moved in with our mate. Got our own life. But the thoughts were always fleeting because we’d had time. So much time to figure it out.

But then the truth of our heritage had come out. The ascension happened and now Charod is gone, and I know…I know the pain of never hearing his heartbeat again.

I’ve slept holding his shirt the past few nights. His scent was on it, comforting, a part of him, but the shirt no longer smells like him. One of the zuni took it. Washed it.

I swallow my rage. It’s fine. There are more shirts here. More of his things strewn all over the floor.

I shut the door behind me and pick my way through the whirlwind of debris. A smile tugs at my lips because when I’m here, in this space, it feels like I’m close to him. I pick a gray shirt off the floor by the bed and hold it to my nose. My eyes well. Charod…There you are.

The door opens and I step back, tucking the shirt into the belt at my back and shaking out my plumes to hide it.

I expect a zuni, sent to maybe tidy the room, or clear it out, but my mother steps inside. She stills at the sight of me, and the look on her face might be comical if the sight of her didn’t evoke rage. It surges up my throat, leaving a bitter taste on my tongue.

She recovers her composure quick enough. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.” I give her a thin smile. “Come to clear out the room? Put it to better use.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s a flash of hurt in her eyes. But I do know better. I know that she stood by and let the trials murder her son.

“I know you must hate me,” she says.

“You’re right. I do.” I want to get out of here, but she’s standing between me and the door.

“I didn’t have a choice. The contracts were clear.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” I move to the dresser where more clothes are strewn and start to gather them. “If you want to clear the room out, fine. But I’m taking his things.”

“I didn’t come here for that.”

I round on her, anger buzzing in my veins. “Then why the fuck are you here?”

“To be close to him…” Her voice is small.

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