Page 24 of Bought By the Manticore

Normally, I hesitated to reveal myself during the day. But I couldn’t abandon my mate like that, not when she was so obviously distraught.

I sent out a single vine, reaching for her from the cracks underneath the bed. The moment I touched her ankle, the echo of her emotions erupted over me, more intense than the power of a Shift Day.

After all the time we’d recently spent together, I didn’t need to press a bloom to her temple like I had in the past. Her words spilled over into my consciousness, sharp, almost vicious.“I went to Phix’s garden. To the place where you fell.”

“I know,”I admitted.“I sensed you there.”

“Of course you did. Then you must know she was there, too. Your bride.”

My… bride? For a few moments, I didn’t understand what she was talking about. There was only one person who could ever be my bride, and that was Ianthe.

“You don’t remember, do you?” Ianthe asked, this time out loud. “What happened with Medea. With Aion.”

There was an edge of strained grief in her voice, and the sound of it carved a hollow ache into my chest. It was a reminder that, no matter how hard I tried, I could never be truly whole. Not even for her.

“I remember them. The silver death-woman. The bronze one. They were my friends.”

To my surprise, Ianthe laughed. “Friends. That’s not the way I’d describe it. You married her to give her a chance to stay with her mate. And in return, she got you killed.”

Was that what had happened? I twitched and sank my roots deeper into the death crystals, seeking an answer.

What I didn’t remember, the city did. There were scars still in Asphodelia’s own center, from the backlash of a potent death energy surge. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d have deemed it related to Ianthe and what had happened at her bride market. But no, this was different.

A clear memory finally surfaced. My mother’s garden. Her blissful face, hovering above mine. Crystals shattering in the distance.

Medea shouting,“He is dying! He is disappearing right in front of us!”

And I had died, just like she’d said. Unwoven by her power, but refusing to let go of my home, regardless. Maybe I’d known, allalong, that there was someone out there who needed me. Maybe my instincts had understood what my conscious mind had not.

I tightened my hold on my mate, feeling the need to draw her closer. She cupped the vine with a gentle hand. “It’s unfair. Why did we have to trade our happiness for theirs?”

I struggled with words, unsure of what to tell her.“Ianthe,”I finally offered.“You’re right. It is unfair, and the answers I can give you… They’re not enough.

“Back then, I didn’t begrudge Medea what she’d done. What happened was only an accident. And being unwoven is not a tragedy. Not to us. But if I’d known you then, Ianthe, I would have made a different choice. I’d have never allowed myself to be erased, no matter what I had to do.”

Ianthe straightened her back, as if she’d suddenly made a decision. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. The anger in her faded, replaced by a stubborn, fierce resolve. “You weren’t erased. You’re still here.”

“I am, but not to the extent you deserve,”I answered. I couldn’t hide away from the obvious, not anymore.

Ianthe clenched her jaw, and death energy pulsed through her in agitation. “You think a body matters to me?” she asked.

She let go of my vine and sat up straight. Her hands moved to the laces at the front of her dress.

“Ianthe—”

“I’ve spent years in a body that did nothing but torture me,” she interrupted me, pulling the laces loose. “Flesh and bone fail. They hurt. They don’t mean anything to me.”

She pushed the fabric off her shoulders. The dress pooled around her waist, leaving her bare in the dim light of the healing chamber. I could see the raised, pink scars on her arms where the thorns had broken her skin. She was a feast, in a way nothing else could ever be.

She reached out and picked up my thickest vine again. She pressed it flat against the curve of her waist.

“You don’t have hands to hold me,” she whispered. “But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Hold me with this.”

The vine pressed against my waist was incredibly hot and entirely smooth. It pulsed with a steady beat against my bare skin.

For a long moment, the room was perfectly still. Skaros was still uncertain. He had no reason to be, but I understood the weight of his grief and indecision.

I slid my hand down the length of the thick stem.I am here,I told him, this time simply in my mind.Take me.