Tiernon is waiting outside my door when I arrive. His eyes are guarded as they meet mine, but he gives me a questioning look.
I unlock the door, gesturing for him to step inside. He lifts a hand, tapping it against the invisible ward.
“Oh.” My cheeks heat. All this time, and I somehow still forget. “Tiernon,” I say formally. “Will you please come in?”
He steps inside, and I close the door behind us, slumping against it.
Tiernon’s brows knit together. “You look exhausted.”
“I … Maeva …”
You’re so, so convinced you’re better off alone, and maybe you’re right. Since you don’t want or need my friendship, you no longer have it.
Tiernon reaches out his hand, his eyes dark. “Come here.”
I take a step toward him, and he wraps me in his arms. The brush of his lips against mine is gentle. Tender. It’s a kiss saturated with yearning. A kiss touched with bitterness. A kiss weighted by what we might have been.
My breath hitches. The emperor robbed us of so many years. So many memories. A future. And tomorrow night, either the Vampire Council or the emperor himself will steal what little we have left.
I know now, the grief and rage Tiernon felt when he was forced to leave me. When he was forced to pretend I no longer existed.
And when Itrulyno longer exist?
My death is going to break him. The inevitability of it slices into me, urging me to push him away. As if I can find words bitter enough to soften the blow of my upcoming demise.
I need to remember one crucial fact: Any time we had together was time we stole from fate. There was no future for us. There would never be marriage, children. There would never be a world where I didn’t die centuries before Tiernon.
“You’re shaking. Talk to me, Velle. What’s wrong?”
“Just kiss me again. Kiss me again, and don’t stop.”
He runs his hand over his mouth, and I can see him debating whether to push this. So I slide my hands beneath his shirt, enjoying the feel of his warm skin. “I want this. Don’t make me beg.”
Tiernon nuzzles my ear. “You never need to beg me forthat.” At my urging, he whips his shirt off, revealing the wide, muscled chest that makes my toes curl.
I want to lose myself in him. I want to create one last memory for both of us. And, selfishly, I want to imprint myself on his skin so he’ll never forget me.
His eyes are depthless pools of blue, and he watches me closely, as if attempting to discern my thoughts. When I drop my gaze, he huffs a laugh, gently pulling my own tunic over my head.
One hand slips down to the back of my neck, fingers burrowing into my hair. He kisses me like I’m something precious and fragile and … loved. Our kiss deepens, my stomach tight with anticipation, my breasts heavy.
“You won’t rush me this time,” he murmurs against my mouth, and I let out a laugh that sounds more like a sob. Slowly, he draws back. “Arvelle.”
“Not now. Later.”
It’s a lie. By the time he understands, it will be far too late.
Tiernon frowns, but he doesn’t argue, taking my hand and leading me toward the bed. The covers are soft and silky beneath my skin, and I close my eyes, reveling in the feel of his mouth as he places gentle kisses along my jaw, the caress of his hands as he peels my leathers away, his low curse as he gazes at my body.
I’m lucky. So, so lucky to have been given this time with him. Myheart aches at the time wasted, the days I spent wrapping my fury around me like a shield—before I truly understood everything Tiernon suffered. Everything he sacrificed to keep me safe.
Our eyes meet, and his smile is brilliant, blazing, breathtaking. My heart cracks, but I smile back, soaking in this moment.
Tiernon studies my face, his expression shifting into something raw and wounded. “What have you done?”
I shake my head, a single tear spilling down my cheek.
“Arvelle.”
