Underneath the sheet was Julian, looking stiff and pale, his colour waxy, but breathing. Alive.
Not dead. Not at all the way she'd seen him in her dreams, but Emma couldn't shake the creeping sensation, the absolute chaos she had felt, ready to pounce when she'd thought Julian, her Jules, her parabatai was dead, the utter terror and sorrow and havoc that she'd been on the verge of submerging herself in.
There was a strange, numbing feeling in her shoulder, where the rune was carved, the Mark that tied her to Jules till death or worse parted them. Looking over at it, she saw that it was not the typical dark hue of runes, but had a strange glow instead, not unlike the one she'd seen in her dream on Julian's parabatai mark.
Impossible. She was seeing things; the dream had confused her; there was nothing wrong with the parabatai rune. She was with Mark, meaning she and Julian would be fine, would not be a tragic warning sign against parabatai falling in love or some disaster waiting to happen.
"Listen to me, Emma," Magnus was saying. Her head snapped up, braid hitting her back, arms at her sides, ready for battle. "Are you listening?"
"I am," she replied, tensing, squaring her shoulders back. She was Emma Carstairs, and did not run; she fought.
He waved a hand idly over the bed; blue sparks flew out of his fingertips. Magnus wasn't looking at her. "What did Malcolm say to you before he died, Emma?"
A jolt of dread hit her like lightning and sparked a fire, coiled in the pit of her stomach, made her brace herself for the news after her answer. "He said... that he could tell me about the parabatai curse. That if he died, no one would tell me about it."
Doesn't matter now, she thought. He was dead, and she knew anyways. It was better this way. Better that she knew, so she could save Julian instead of them hurting each other.
"You love him," Magnus said bluntly. "Julian. You're in love with Julian, aren't you?"
"Of course not!" Emma snapped, busying herself with fluffing the pillows by Jules' head.
Unbelieving, Magnus raised an eyebrow, and dropped his typical snarky facade. "You can tell me, Emma." His voice, his face, were surprisingly soft. It broke her heart, because even he, Magnus, who was wise and all-knowing and never-endingly sarcastic, didn't know. "Who I am to judge?"
On top of the blankets, Julian's hand twitched. She took hold of it, wishing he would wake. "The curse is awful, Magnus. Sed lex, dura lex. The Law is hard for a reason. If parabatai fall in love... they'll have too much power. The magic will overcome them, and they'll go insane, and kill each other and everyone they love. I can't love him, Magnus. Not like that. We were going to, but then - then Jem told me and I broke things off. We're going to be fine." Right?
Now he was silent. Magnus put a hand on her shoulder. "Emma, I'm afraid that won't work."
The question she asked was futile, pointless, something to fill the silence. "What do you mean?"
He shook his head, looking at once very young and a thousand years old, having seen lifetimes of misery. "The spell he cast was supposed to weaken you, but it was also meant to be a catalyst for the parabatai curse. But because the effects were already starting, it only strengthened the curse. The only thing I can do for Julian, if you don't want the curse to kill you both, is break your bond. But we both know - " he cut himself off when he saw her face.
"Even if I heal his illness, it won't do him any good. The parabatai curse will just destroy the both of you, Emma. I'm sorry. I think we need to call in the Clave." Magnus' eyes were sympathetic. Emma tried not to let show that she was falling apart on the inside. Julian stirred.
"Over my dead body." Her parabatai was awake, and despite being propped up by pillows and having a nasty cough, he was unyielding, resolute, showing one of his few flashes of uncontrolled emotion.
Pacing the room before, Emma stopped in her tracks, turning to him in anger. Her hands went to her hips, and she stormed over to the bed. "Look, Jules, I hate the Clave as much as you do, but we have no other choice. I get that you're going stir-crazy in here, but I didn't think that meant you'd lost your mind!"
Exiting the room quietly, Magnus closed the door after a murmured "I'll leave the two of you alone now."
"No, you're right, Em. I haven't lost my mind. But the kids need me. They need what's left of their family to stay together, not be torn apart while we're off to be examined and punished for... for some stupid Law!"
Rage and terror swept through her like a storm, decimating all logic and reason, all other emotion that might have disagreed with her parabatai. Every part of her thrummed with anxiety; every cell of her being wanted nothing more than to protect Julian, to agree with him, to keep lying to him and hide the only secret she'd ever kept from him. She swallowed. "I know what the parabatai curse does, Julian. It isn't just some stupid Law. It's the worst thing you could ever imagine, and it's far worse than the kids being split up and sent all over to Institutes and it's worse than Helen being exiled. It's your worst nightmare, Jules."
Once she'd finished, not pausing at all for fear she might never continue if she stopped, Emma crawled into bed next to Julian, and held his hand. Them against the world - no matter how they were together, they needed each other.
"I love you," Julian whispered, and they were children in the dark, trying to fend off each other's demons. "I don't know who I am if I don't - I don't know and I don't want to know who I would be if I didn't love you. I love the children. They are my life, Emma, and you - you are my heart. Only now, now you're telling me that I have to choose between my heart, and my life. If I choose you, we're going to die, and commit the worst crimes that anyone ever could. If I choose the children, we'll both be living these half-lives, ghosts of what we could have been. We'll know everything we could have had and we will never have it. Is that what you're saying, Emma?"
"Don't you think I've tried?" Emma asked, with the hopelessness and desperation of someone starving, someone who knew they were going to die: fighting to live and knowing full they would not. "Do you think I could actually fall in love with Mark, with anyone except you? I'm in love with you Julian; we're in love and it's going to kill us."
A silence fell over the two of them, thick as fog and full of just as many hidden things. "Are you mad?" she asked quickly, quietly, like the words had never been said. But Julian knew her, could see even the things about her she didn't want him to see. "Because I killed Malcolm, and now there's this curse - "
"No," he said, resolutely, in that grown-up tone of his that allowed no other opinion. "You did what you had to do. If you hadn't killed him, I would have. For Tavvy, and for your parents.
"Don't ever apologize for that." Julian reached over and clutched her hand; his was cool, but above it his wrist was warmer, and either way, even now, she found herself pulled to it, drawn to him, that simple touch not only bringing reassurance and comfort but dragging her over the edge of a desire she had been doing her best to stay away from. "You couldn't have known. Nothing you did was wrong."
In the dark, a fear that had been encroaching on her mind like a looming shadow could be admitted to him, and she breathed in, breathed out, the sound of his breaths in sync with hers bringing her both peace and pain, then spoke. "I'm scared, sometimes, that all I can do now is hurt people. That after the war, all I can do is kill, and fight, and now, I did this to you - "
When she stopped to take a breath, his fingers moved over her hand, travelled up her arm, and landed on her lips, leaving a streak of heat on her body that was dizzying; it seemed impossible that such small, seemingly insignificant contact, could leave her lightheaded and shrink her world down to the press of Julian's fingertips on her mouth. "You can do more than hurt, Emma. You can love."
And then the hand touching her face became his mouth, and the moment became everything she'd missed and everything she'd done her best to stop wanting. It was too much; it was not enough. It was everything; there was nothing realer, nothing hotter, nothing in the world that made her feel more alive than this kiss.
She seemed to suddenly be made of only nerves and senses, and all of them wanted Julian. Every part of her was against every part of him, and still every part of her - body, soul, heart - in her wanted more. Only - was there any more to give?
AN: Sorry for the wait! Now that you've finished reading this chapter, go back and read the first letter of every paragraph. ;)
Happy New Year! May you all succeed in your 2017 New Year's Resolutions and have a fabulous year! At least better than 2016 if that was bad for you (Democrat/liberal Americans, refugees, everyone involved in a natural disaster area) and God bless you!