"No." I shake my head violently. "No, I don't want this. I don't want any of this!"
"I know." He's still kneeling, still looking at me with those terrible, gentle eyes. "I know I'm not worthy of you. I—"
“Why didn’t you come for me?Why? Was it because you didn't want me?" I'm crying again, the words ripping out of me. "Because I was just a possession to you? Something to keep locked away, and when someone else took me, you didn't care enough to—"
"No. Never. I was poisoned." His voice cuts through my tirade, sharp and clear. "The prince. He used arrows tipped with poison. It made me lose my powers for a time. I couldn’t heal. I almost died.”
I freeze. "What?"
"I should have died." He gestures to the ruins around us. "When I finally made it out of the fog, when the poison had worked its way through my system enough that I could fly again, I went to find you. But you were gone. The castle was empty. I tracked you through the bond. I swear to you I went to you the second I could. I went to the castle you were at. Changed into my human form. Found you in a garden.” He’s looking down now, lost in thought. “And through the bond, I felt... contentment. Peace. I thought—" His voice breaks. "I thought you had chosen to leave with him. That you wanted to go."
"Contentment?" I stare at him. "I was kidnapped and forced to stay there! My cousin, the king of my old castle, forced me into marriage. He locked me in another castle. He forced me to have sex with him every night because he wanted children. You thought I was content?"
The color drains from his face. "I didn't know. Adelaide, I swear to you, I didn't know. The bond—it can be deceiving. It shows emotions but not context. I felt you calm and resolved and… and I thought..." He closes his eyes. "I thought you had finally found happiness. Away from me. Free of me."
"Free?" The word is a sob. "I've never been free! Not before you stole me. Not in the century I slept, not in the moments I was awake before the prince came, not in the months I spent in his castle! And you—you just gave up on me!"
"I thought it was what you wanted!" He's on his feet now, and there's anguish in every line of his body. "I thought I had finally done something right by letting you go!"
"You don't get to let me go!" I'm against his body now, my fists pounding against his chest. "You don't get to make that choice for me! You don't get to decide what I want!"
He takes it. Every blow. Doesn't even try to defend himself.
"You're right," he says. "You're absolutely right. I failed you. I failed to protect you. I failed to save you. I failed in every way that matters." He catches my wrists gently, stopping my assault. "I am filled with shame, Adelaide. It eats at me every moment. Punish me. Please. I welcome it. I deserve it."
"You deserve worse than punishment." I wrench my hands free and pull the knife from my belt. "You deserve to suffer like I've suffered."
"Yes." He doesn't move. Doesn't try to stop me. "Yes, I do."
"I hate you." The knife trembles in my hand. "I hate you for the curse. For stealing acenturyof my life. For making me sleep while everyone I loved grew old and died. I will always hate you for that.Always."
"I know." His voice is soft. "And you're allowed to. You're allowed to hate me and love me at the same time, Adelaide."
"I don't love you." But the words sound hollow even to me.
"You don't have to." He reaches up slowly, his hand cupping my face with devastating gentleness. "But I will always love you. I will be here for you, protect you, serve you, for as long as you allow me to exist. That is my vow."
The knife plunges into his stomach before I fully realize I've moved.
His breath hitches. Blood blooms around the blade, hot and dark. I pull it out and stab him again. And again. And again.
He doesn't stop me. Doesn't fight back. Just stands there and takes it, his blood soaking into my dress, hot and wet against my skin.
I feel good. I feel terrible. I feel alive.
When I finally stop, my arm aching, he's still standing. Still looking at me with those eyes full of love and pain and acceptance.
"Better?" he asks, and there's no sarcasm in it. Just genuine concern.
"No." I drop the knife. My hands are covered in his blood. "Yes. I don't know."
He sways slightly, and I catch him without thinking. We go down together, kneeling in the dirt and rubble, his blood mixing with the earth.
"You're insane," I whisper. "Letting me do that. You're completely insane."
"Probably. I think I forgot to mention that when one harms their mate, it takes much longer to heal." My eyes widen. His hand comes up to tangle in my hair. "But I meant what I said. I love you. I will always love you."
"I hate you." But I'm leaning into his touch.
