I haven't thought that word in centuries. Haven't let myself. And now it's just—there. Sitting in my chest. Settling into the shape of her name.
"Don't look at me like that. I know what it means. I know what I'm—"
…
"Yes. Fine. You're right. You're always right. Even now you're insufferably right."
I close my eyes. The city disappears. The wind disappears. Everything disappears except the weight of the blade and the cold of the stone and the fact that she's down there, sleeping, and I'm up here.
"I'm going back."
Final.
"I'm going back and I'm going to be in that room with her and I'm going to—"
What? What am I going to do?
Watch her sleep. Count her breaths. Sit in the dark and listen to her heartbeat until dawn.
Make sure no one touches her while her eyes are closed.
"I'm keeping her."
I open my eyes. Arkenhold glitters below. Distant. Irrelevant.
"I don't care what that costs. She's mine now and I'm not—I can't—"
My hand shakes.
"I'm not letting her go."
I stand. My legs are stiff from the cold. The blade slides back onto my hip, the bone settling against my thigh where it belongs.
"Thank you."
…
"Don't enjoy this."
I turn toward the tunnel. The darkness swallows me whole.
Down. Spiral stairs. Stone underfoot. The static builds as I descend—all those lies bleeding back into my awareness, all that noise I can't shut off. By the time I reach the hidden door my skull is pounding.
Doesn't matter.
She's on the other side of that wall.
My hand finds the panel. The stone splits. My chambers open around me—dark, quiet, the bed visible in the corner where the lamplight doesn't reach.
She's there. Asleep.
I cross the room. Stop at the foot of the bed.
Her chest rises. Falls. Rises. The rhythm is slow. Deep. She's really out.
There's a thread loose at the hem of her sleeve. Gold. Catching the lamplight. I want to pull it. Watch the fabric unravel up her arm.
Her hair is spread across my pillow. Her face is turned toward me. The bruises are fading—yellow now instead ofpurple. Her lips are parted. Her hands are curled beneath her chin. There's a crease on her cheek from the pillowcase. Left side. Red. It'll fade in twenty minutes.
