Everlasting (The Immortals #6)(85)
The juncture.
There is no turning back.
This is where we go our separate ways.
Aware of the almost feel of his hand on my arm when he pul s me back to him and says, “Yes.”
I look at him, unsure what he’s saying yes to.
“The questions you asked earlier, about wanting to settle down, start a family, see my family? Yes. Yes to al of it.”
I try to swal ow but can’t, try to speak but the words just won’t come.
His hands sliding around me, grasping me to him, he lets go of the vial, al ows it to fal , to crash to the ground. The sparkling green liquid seeping out al around as he says, “But mostly yes to you.”
chapter forty-three
Even though he’s agreed to do it, he stil hesitates.
His hand shaking, his gaze so ful of trouble and worry it prompts me to say, “Look at me.”
He takes a deep breath, but does as I ask.
“Let this be the proof.”
He cocks his head, not quite understanding.
“Let this costume be the proof of how I’l always come back to you. No matter what happens, we’l always be together, always find a way to locate each other. Whether I’m Adelina, Evaline, Abigail, Chloe, Fleur, Emala, Ever, or, eventual y, someone else entirely.” I smile. “No matter which guise my soul decides to wear, I wil always return to you. Just like I always have returned to you.”
He nods, holds my gaze, lifting the cup to his lips as I do the same.
Surprised to learn it’s not at al sweet like I thought, but stil , I hardly notice its bitterness—the way it doesn’t sit so wel on the tongue. I just urge the fruit down. Encourage it to flow through my system as though it’s the sweetest ambrosia any God could create, while Damen does the same.
And when I see the way the room sparkles and glows, when I see the way the furniture vibrates and al the paintings come to life—I understand exactly what made Misa, Marco, and Rafe whoop and hol er and carry on like they did.
Everything is alive.
Everything is bursting with color, throbbing with energy, and it’s al connected to us.
We are part of each other, part of everything that surrounds us.
There are no boundaries of any kind.
The world appearing just as it did when I died as Adelina. When I soared through the sky and gazed down on creation.
Only I’m not dead. In fact, it’s just the opposite. I’ve never felt so alive.
My eyes meet Damen’s, wondering if he’l change, if I’l change. But other than my hair returning from the red that I manifested to its natural state of blond, other than the purple aura that surrounds me, and the indigo blue that surrounds him, there doesn’t seem to be much change at al .
I reach toward him, just as he reaches toward me. Tentative, our fingertips just about to touch, when he flinches, pul s away, causing me to look at him and say, “Even if it doesn’t work, even if we discover our DNA is stil cursed, even if one of us should die trying, we’l find each other again. And again. And again. Same way we always have. Same way we always wil from this point on. No matter what happens, we’l never be apart. We’re truly immortal now. It’s like when we’re in the pavilion, right when we’re about to enter the scene and I always freeze— what is it you always say to me?”
He looks at me, face softening when he says, “Believe. ”
And so we do.
We take that big leap of faith and believe.
The silence pierced by twin intakes of breath the moment we reach forward, make contact.
Our fingertips touching, meeting, pressing solidly together, seeming almost to merge into each other, until it’s impossible to tel us apart, determine where he ends and I begin. And I can’t help but marvel at the warmth of him—the surge of pure tingle and heat that he brings. And soon, no longer content with just that, longing for something much deeper, we slip into each other’s arms.
My hands at his neck, his at my waist, clutching me tightly, pul ing me close, and then closer stil . Exploring the path of my spine before threading his fingers through my thick mane of hair, he steers me toward him, expertly angling my lips to meet his. The soft pil owy firmness of his mouth reminding me of the first time I tasted him—in this life and al the others as wel . Our whole world shrinking until there’s nothing but this.
One perfect everlasting kiss.
Bodies pressed together, we sink down to an antique rug that some of history’s most il ustrious figures have walked upon, Damen lying beside me, curled al around me, the two of us completely curled al around me, the two of us completely overcome by the wonder of each other, the wonder of being together.
Hardly believing this moment has come after having waited so long.
The curse final y broken.
The universe no longer working against us.
Damen pul s away, gaze drinking me in as his fingers rediscover the feel of my skin. Exploring the expanse of flesh between my temple, my cheek, my lips, my chin, down around my neck, and then lower stil , as my lips swel in anticipation of his, eagerly tasting, taking smal nips at his hand, his shoulder, his chest, whatever comes near. I can’t get enough of him. Can’t help but want more of him.
Al of him.
Now.
“Ever,” he whispers, gazing at me in the same way that Alrik once did, only this time it’s better, happening in real time.