I beg him never to stop again.
We lie on our sides,facing each other. My hands are tucked beneath the pillow as I study the lines of Zadyn’s face, my gaze hopping from freckle to freckle. I fight the urge to touch every single one—to commit them all to memory, their size and exact location on his perfect skin. His chest rises and falls with even breaths, each exhale tickling the tip of my nose. He looks so tranquil, so young.
“Are you asleep?” I whisper. His eyes remain closed, but one corner of his lips pulls up slightly.
“Yes.”
“I’m not.”
“I know,” he replies, cracking an eye at me. His smirk spreads into a smile as I shimmy closer.
“I’m furious with you.”
“For what?” he scoffs, his voice hushed.
“Why do you think? For dying.”
He chuckles. “You can’t be mad at me for dying. You’re the one who stabbed me.” His eyes fully open, and I can see the instant regret over his joke.
You’re right. This is all my fault. I…I killed you.
You didn’t know.
“I don’t care. You should have told me. What you did—disguising yourself as Kylian—was reckless. And dangerous.”
“It was necessary. It stopped the armies. It kept you safe. Alive.”
“But you were dead. My life is worth no more than yours.”
“You’re wrong.” He slides a bit closer, bringing his chest to touch my bent elbows. “This was what I was made for, Serena.”
“You were not made to lay down your life for me?—”
“I was, and I would do it again in an instant?—”
Ilay my fingers against his mouth, stopping the words from tumbling out.
“Don’t,” I whisper. “Don’t ever say that to me. If you had stayed dead—if I hadn’t been able to bring you back—I don’t think I would have been able to go on.”
“Serena,” he says an inch from my lips.
“It’s true, Zadyn. When you died”—I trace his face, pushing back his hair—“it felt like something died in me too. It was like a tether snapping. It hurt.”
His fingers close over mine.
“It hurthere.” I place our joined hands over my heart and lift my gaze to his. “It physically hurt to walk and talk and breathe.”
Tears spring to my eyes, the memory too fresh.
“Now you know how it felt when I almost lost you.”
Zadyn’s thumb gently strokes up and down my palm. He closes the gap between us, tucking me against him. I breathe in that cool, familiar scent of his—black tea and cedar—alleviating some of that horrible ache still lingering in my chest. He traces lazy lines up and down my back, each sweep erasing the horrors of the last twenty-four hours.
“You were so pale.” I shudder at the memory, wishing I could take a sponge and scrub it from my mind, sand it down to ash and scatter it to the wind.
“I’m right here,” he murmurs, resting his chin on my head. I feel the rumble of his words through his chest as he repeats, “I’m right here. Try to sleep.”
I snake my arm around his waist, holding him tighter. “I don’t want to. I’m afraid you won’t be here when I wake up.”
