‘Why did you write that letter, Simon?’
‘I had no choice. I wish I never had. But she swore she would kill you if you came. I sent you the pendant so you would know…to protect you, Morvarc’h…to carry you to safety. I wrote the coordinates of the place I hid the mask on the letter just in case. I barely knew why. Perhaps…perhaps it was just blind hope. Perhaps the mask wanted to be found and I knew I could trust you. All I could do was try to stop her. I knew you would figure it out.’
He smiled, a brief and fleeting expression. The loss it conveyed made her heart lurch inside her, made it wrench itself up inside her ribcage, trying to tear its way free. It was awful, too cruel. She’d thought the worst of him when, really, he’d been trying to protect her. That’s all he had ever done.
‘I never expected to come back, but Dahut gave me another chance. She loved me. Isn’t that the strangest thing? Beyond enchantments and magic. She loved me. She called me her champion. And when you came back, I told her you’d save Rafael.’
Simon kissed her one last time, his lips cold, his touch so gentle, like a winter breeze against her skin. And then he was gone.
Another mouth replaced his, not in a kiss, but something else. Air filled her lungs. And then hands on her chest, rhythmic compressions, then his mouth again…
Rafael, his mouth, his kiss, desperately trying to save her life.
Gasping for air, she half sat up, and crashed into him.
She was stretched out on the stone floor of the cave. The mask was gone, completely gone, and Rafael du Lac was holding her, breathing life back into her.
He whispered to her and she felt his breath on the side of her neck, warm with life, playing against her skin the way it had when she’d made love with him.
She shivered, still cold to the core. What had happened to her?
But Rafael held her, his fingers on her skin so hot in contrast. ‘Breathe,’ he said. ‘Please, Ari. Breathe. I’ll do anything, give anything…’
‘Money can’t help here, Rafael.’ Her voice was a croak.
Rafael gave her a look of complete exasperation. ‘I don’t mean money. I meant… Why did you put it on,mon coeur?’
Mon coeur. It meant my heart. The way he said it… It meant so much more. She touched his face, her hand trembling.
‘I couldn’t let you do it. And you would have. We both know that. You like being a hero too much.’
From somewhere, he dredged up a smile. ‘Rather than your princess, yes.’
‘Damsel in distress,’ she told him, suddenly giddy with elation.
‘Lie still, I had to resuscitate you. Your brain is probably starved of oxygen. You aren’t making sense.’ But she caught the relieved smile lingering in the corner of his mouth.
But when another voice spoke, it faltered to alarm and he jerked himself up, as if he would protect her with his life if needs be.
‘He always loved to be a hero,’ Gwen said, her voice echoing across the chamber. The candles had burned down, puddles of wax on the stone, guttering flames. ‘They all do.Du Lacs. What family renames itself after a made-up hero? But it is always a Poullain who saves you in the end, isn’t it,du Lac?’
Ari shook her head. ‘I’m not…’
Gwen smiled. ‘You might as well be. He named you as such. Simon knew. In his heart, you were always his wife. Even when he loved me, he still loved you. Hearts are strange and fickle things. A different kind of love. He said you would save Rafael. This was our accord.’
‘From what?’ she whispered. ‘The curse was broken.’
‘From Laure, from fate…’ Gwen glanced at him with all too knowing an expression. ‘From himself.’
‘Why me? I couldn’t save Simon.’
‘No one could do that, Ariadne. Not even me.’
Ari’s eyes burned with tears again and that open wound inside her was back. Her hand came up to grab the pendant, but it was gone. Somewhere, the pieces of it were lost on the floor of this chamber. Gone forever. Her last remembrance of Simon.
Rafael gathered her closer in his arms. ‘I didn’t hear the mask when I held it. Not the last time. Why didn’t it work?’
Gwen smiled. ‘You’re lucky you kept Séraphine’s charm on you. It kept you safe, just as she promised. Laure always refused them, you know. She couldn’t even indulge an old woman who loved her. I wonder if she’s really Théo’s child at all. Yvette was the same. Cold to the core. Driven. Like I used to be. Before I learned of real love.’
