An Embroidery of Souls, page 23
“Well, I mean…” She sighs. “You can turn around.”
My jaw nearly drops when I do. Because standing there in only my shirt and her crown, smooth legs on full display, is Jade. Which, I mean, of course it’s Jade. It couldn’t be anyone else, but it appears I’ve lost the ability to rationally process information. Seeing her like that, flowers at her brow, jeweled in raindrops—I love seeing her dressed like my people. And those legs.
Every useful thought I might’ve had is temporarily eclipsed by an image of me kissing those legs, working my way steadily up, lifting the hem above her thighs—
I’m being indecent and disrespectful. I rip my gaze to Jade’s face to find her blushing. Shit. “I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I shouldn’t have—I mean…”
It appears I’ve also forgotten how to speak. Fortunately, Jade saves me from saying anything too foolish. “It’s okay. I should’ve warned you. The pants kept slipping, and I figured this would cover enough.”
It does. It hits her mid-thigh, and yet it does nothing to temper my thoughts, growing more heated by the second.
“Right, then.” I clear my throat, my gaze still adamantly on her face. “I guess we should go to bed.”
But neither of us moves. A beat of silence passes before Jade breaks it. “Actually, I have something for you. A Gebreine gift. I meant to give it to you earlier, but I got swept up, though now it’s wet, but it’ll still do and—Oh gods. I’m babbling now, aren’t I? I’m sorry, I’m just nervous.”
“It’s okay,” I reassure her. In seconds I’m across the space, unable to resist placing a comforting hand on her elbow. “I like it when you babble. It’s cute.”
“It is?”
“It is.”
She releases a slow breath, her gaze focused firmly on my chest. “Well, that’s…okay. I mean, not okay, that’s good, I guess, and—” Her hand juts out, and for the first time I notice something’s clasped in it. “Here. Your present. Take it before I keep talking.”
I let out a chuckle, but it’s cut short the moment I take the gift and unfold it, my breath temporarily stolen by the image staring back at me. Because I know what this is, carefully stitched into worn leather. I’ve seen enough souls these past weeks to recognize one when I see it. What I don’t know is who it belongs to, and it crosses my mind that maybe it’s Jade’s.
“Whose is it?” I ask, voice rasping.
But Jade ignores my question and lifts her hand to the portrait, brushing a vein of purple. “See that? It’s intelligence. And this?” She lowers her fingers to several green swirls. “This is nurturance, which pairs well with this.” She points to a swell of brown. “Which is kindness. So much kindness. There’s anger too, and strength. Passion and spirituality, beauty and sensitivity, and of course courage.” She taps a spike of pine-needle green, briefly meets my gaze, and blushes. “I’ve always thought your eyes looked like courage. The shades are nearly identical.”
Before I can respond, she’s focused back on the portrait, lips grim as she traces a river of black. “This is grief, running through all of it, but it’s only made possible by my favorite part. This.” Her touch skims a red well. Dark and deep, its roots overflow into every aspect of the portrait, twined with several other colors. “This is love. Pure, enduring love. It fuels the grief, but it also makes other aspects possible. Happiness. Hope. Compassion. All of it born of love.”
She lifts her head and faces me, radiant. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
I can’t help but agree as I imagine that soul hovering around her.
“It is,” I say.
She positively beams at me. “Of course it is, because it’s yours.”
My mind goes quiet, a blanket of shock settling over it.
“What?” I’ve been so wrapped up in the idea this was Jade’s soul, I never paused to consider she might’ve gifted me something just as powerful.
Jade takes my free hand and whispers, “You’re always down on yourself, talking about your work and your home as if they reflect badly on you. But from the day we met, this is what I’ve seen. This beautiful, glorious, incredible soul. From those first moments in that alley, I trusted you, because I knew the truth of you. You are wonderful, and words don’t do you justice, so I stopped using them.” Her gaze shifts to the present in my grasp. “You’re everything in that portrait and more. Love and courage and kindness, and I hope now you can see it too.”
Jade told me I had a beautiful soul once, but I didn’t quite believe her. I assumed then she was being nice; now, though—I don’t know. I thought the soul was stunning when I believed it to be hers. Why should her revelation change that? For months now Jade’s insisted I’m better than the way I see myself.
Maybe…maybe she’s right. I’m not wholly convinced, but the possibility is enough to have my fingers clenching the portrait.
“Thank you.” The words scrape. “This is…No one’s ever done anything so kind for me.”
“Well, that’s a shame,” she says, a little breathless, “because you deserve kindness like this every day of your life.”
Desire ignites inside me, so robust it’s a miracle I don’t turn to cinders. I meet Jade’s eyes, those dark, gorgeous depths. It takes everything in me not to cup her jaw, lower my mouth to hers, and kiss her within an inch of her life. But she pulled away last time. I don’t want to make her feel pressured or uncomfortable. It’s nearly impossible, though, when she looks at me like that, such blatant adoration in her gaze. Enough that I can’t resist a question.
“Why did you push me away that day in the woods? Why didn’t you want me?”
The second part slides out, unplanned and unwelcome, but now that it’s between us, I can’t take it back.
Jade pales and looks down. I’m sorry, I should say. You don’t need to tell me. But I can’t make myself do it. Not when I’m desperate for an answer.
“I didn’t want to tell you,” she admits, so quiet her words become creations of spun glass. “But it’s wrong, keeping this secret. You deserve to know the truth.”
I can’t breathe all of a sudden, my mind running to the worst-case scenarios. “What is it?”
Jade’s eyes glisten, and a tear runs down her face. “When I was a kid, I did something bad. Something that hurt your family.”
The second stretches, grows, expands, and suddenly I’m not here, in this moment, any longer. I’m fifteen years old, soaked to the bone, begging Zamora to save my sister. I’m standing at a window, festivities muted outside, while Jade confesses that her thread speaking doesn’t always feel right. I’m living six paces to the left, three hours back, while I told Jade about Lina. I’m sorry I didn’t save her, she whispered, and I heard everything she didn’t say. The admission. She was there that night, watching, but chose to remain silent. She didn’t have to tell me. It was written in all the words left unsaid.
Now, though, she means to say it. She must be worried I didn’t understand earlier.
But I did, and I stop her before she can say anything else. “It’s okay, Jade. Really. I already know, and I’ve forgiven you for it. You were young and scared, and probably didn’t know what to do, but it’s in the past now, and…” My breath hitches as I scan her face, her eyes wet and skin flushed. “I’d rather live in the present. With you, if you’ll let me.”
She opens her mouth. Closes it. Cries openly now, and her voice squeaks. “Are you sure? That’s a big thing to forgive. You lost someone you love because of me.”
Perhaps I did, but Jade was only a child. We both were.
“Positive.”
I’m leaning in now, but Jade pulls back. “You really don’t care?”
“At first I did a great deal,” I admit, and it’s true. “But that time has passed. I’ve forgiven you. Truly.”
And I mean it with my entire soul. Jade must see that I do, because she gives me a watery smile. “That is…I don’t have words. Just thank you, so much, Lukas. For understanding, and for seeing that I never meant any harm.”
And with that, the wall between us crumbles.
Slowly, I fold the thread portrait and place it in my pocket, then face Jade fully. Her breath hitches at the blatant desire in my gaze. I grab her wrist. A gentle tug, and she’s flush against my chest. I wrap my arm around her waist, gripping the curve of her hip, and look down at her. The light’s dim, but there’s enough for me to see her pupils dilate. Her heart races beneath mine.
I swallow. “Now that you know I’ve forgiven you, are there any other reasons you don’t want this?”
“None,” she breathes out. “I want this.”
“Thank god.”
Our last kiss was a slow build. A soft brush of lips, a mingling of breath that gave way to something headier. But now I know what it’s like to have Jade pressed against me, know the taste and sound and smell of her, and I can’t bring myself to be patient any longer. So when I kiss Jade, it’s not a soft thing but a crush of lips, a clash of teeth. She moans into my mouth, heating my blood. I grip her even tighter, wanting more, more, more.
“Lukas,” she breathes, her hands winding through my hair.
“Gods,” she sighs, my lips at her throat.
“Please,” she whimpers, her back arching, pressing her into me more.
And each word, every breathy little gasp, only has my hunger growing hotter, wilder. I dip one of my hands and trace the skin of her bare leg, moving steadily higher until I hit the hem of my shirt. I pause there, waiting for permission.
“Don’t stop.” Jade’s words are an intoxicating rush, as desperate as I am. “Please, I want this.”
I’m powerless to disobey her request. My palms skim the hot flesh of her thigh, everything inside me burning when I realize she’s not wearing anything beneath my shirt. Jade shivers at my touch, and I nearly explode with the desire and euphoria coursing through me.
This, I realize. This is what I want, for the rest of my life. Jade.
But we have only a handful of hours, and I decide to savor them, savor her. It starts with trailing my fingers higher, the stutter of her breath fueling this feral beast inside my chest. Everything inside me screams to go faster. I don’t let that base instinct take over, though. This isn’t my first tumble, but it’s my most meaningful. And for Jade, I sense it might be new.
So I slow down.
Outside, thunder booms, in sync with the beat of my heart but much less powerful. Every pounding of blood through my veins whispers the same thing. Jade, Jade, Jade. As rain lashes the barn, fervor building as Jade and I slide closer to that peak, I know something to be true:
Nothing will ever be as perfect as this moment.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Jade
I’m in love with Lukas.
That particular truth has become undeniable, and I nuzzle his throat, wrapped up in him, no clothes left between us. I still can’t believe he forgave me after what I did to his father, and tomorrow I’ll ask him how he found out—but not tonight. These hours before the dawn are just for us, and I snuggle deeper into the blankets.
“Thank you,” I whisper into his neck. “For making me feel brave, and loved, and beautiful.”
He pulls me closer and kisses my brow. “You were all those things before I came around, but I’m glad you can see it now. I’m glad I got to help you see it.”
I wonder if love is always like this, if it brings out the best in people, like Lukas does with me and, I hope, I do with him.
“You know,” Lukas interrupts my thoughts, “I’ve been thinking.”
“What about?” I raise an eyebrow. Whatever he’s going to say, judging by his tone, it’s something serious.
He carefully slides out from under me and flips onto his side so we’re facing each other. “I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I want you to promise to hear me out.”
He’s nervous, but there’s something else there too—excitement maybe? His cheeks are flushed, and his eyes shine in the dim light.
I cup his cheek, a bubble of happiness filling me that I can touch him like this whenever I want, because he wants it too. “Lukas,” I tell him, “I’ll always hear you out. What is it?”
He lifts his hand to my wrist, my spine tingling as he traces delicate circles there. “I was thinking,” he says slowly, carefully, “that maybe we should bind our souls.”
My mind goes completely blank. I must have a visible reaction, though, because Lukas rushes on, face flaming. “I know, I know, it probably sounds foolish—I mean, we’ve only known each other for six weeks—but, Jade…” He squeezes my wrists. “The things I feel for you, everything we’ve been through together—I want to be even more connected to you. And we don’t have to, of course, we won’t if you don’t want to, but—”
“Lukas.” My voice is soft, but it cuts through his chatter, and he immediately quiets. “I would love nothing more than to bind my soul with yours. I want to, really—but I can’t.”
It’s true. Thread bindings can be done and undone with relative ease, though the undoing is temporarily painful, like a fist squeezing your heart. With Lukas I doubt I’d ever want to unravel our bond, but we’re young, and having the option makes me sure I want this too.
Unfortunately, what I want and what’s possible are two different things.
Lukas’s face crumples. “Why not?”
I swipe my thumb over his cheek, tracing the delicate bone. “Because I can’t see my own soul. It’s part of being a thread speaker—we can see everyone’s soul except our own.”
Which makes binding myself to Lukas impossible. The ritual requires that each person have the core elements of their partner’s soul stitched onto them, so without the knowledge of mine, it won’t take.
“You can’t?” His eyes widen. “I guess I always assumed you could.”
I shake my head. “I can’t. If I could, I’d bind us in a heartbeat. And, well…” I take a deep breath, steadying myself. When Lukas forgave me earlier, it got me thinking. Returning to Sallenda won’t be easy, but with him by my side, I think it’s worth it. Before, that wasn’t possible, but now?
Now that future—one where we’re together—is within reach, I just have to be brave enough to grasp it.
So I do.
“We could ask Johann, but I don’t want to wake him in the middle of the night. There’s always morning, but we’ll have to rush so we can leave afterward and make it back to Sallenda by the queen’s deadline.”
I’ve never seen Lukas go quite this still. I’m not even sure he’s breathing, and my heart’s racing by the time he responds, voice high and slow.
“Jade…are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Ever since I realized my history with Lukas’s father, I’ve been tortured with want. The desire to pull him close, the need to push him away. But the latter always hurt, for both of us, I think, and I’m relieved it’s no longer necessary.
“Yes.” My eyes water. “Let’s go back together.”
The quiet’s so thick, a single exhalation could shatter it. Lukas swallows, heavy in the silence, then whispers, “But the queen…your thread speaking. I know I told you to think things over, but I hate the thought of you being imprisoned by her whims.”
In truth, so do I. But I’ve accomplished a lot since meeting Lukas, and perhaps this is simply one more obstacle for us to navigate together.
“I know,” I tell him. “I don’t like it either, but I’m the queen’s only remaining thread speaker. Perhaps she and I can strike a bargain, and if not?” I shrug. “The world isn’t as frightening anymore. I could escape back into it, with your help. For now, though, I’d like to return with you and finish what we started—assuming you’d like that too, of course.”
A beat of stillness passes, and then Lukas is peppering me with kisses, his lips imprinting my throat, my shoulders, my cheeks. My giggles fracture the silence until it’s shattered completely, and Lukas and I collapse beside each other into a delirious, happy puddle.
“So.” Lukas turns on his side to face me. “I have an idea.”
“Oh?” I pull back for a better view of him. “About what?”
He glances down, almost shy, even after everything we’ve just done.
“About binding our souls. We could wait until morning, but if you’d rather not, there’s something else we could try, if you wanted.”
“Oh?” I feel my eyebrows rise. “What’s your idea?”
“Well, I was thinking…” He releases a sharp breath, and his next words follow in a rush. “I know you can’t see your own soul, but what if I help you?”
“Help me?”
“Yeah, I mean—” He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s probably stupid, but the contents of a soul, it’s kind of like what you shared with mine, isn’t it? Things like love and kindness. I don’t know the colors, but I do know you.” He meets my eyes. “I could tell you what I see, and you could translate that into soul speak.”
“I…” I’m not sure what to say. The fact that he wants to do that for me makes me ache with tenderness. But actually facing my soul…
My mother offered to stitch my soul for me just once. I was only fourteen at the time, and I turned her down. I didn’t want to see it, convinced I’d hate it.
Even now I can’t imagine that I’ll like what I see. Already I can picture the colors in it. The sour yellow fear, the chartreuse jealousy. I’d rather not know. But Lukas sharing what he sees, that might not be bad. That might actually be nice.
I steady myself and meet his patient gaze. “Okay, we can try. Though I can’t promise it’ll work.”
