She’d begged Gavril to have mercy on him.
It defied all logic. Nikias didn’t care much for logic at the moment. Not with the burning pain of his fractured bones trying to drag him into the depths. He’d give in if he was certain he wouldn’t wake up.
The second he’d stepped into the rune and accepted his brother’s challenge, he knew he would not be leaving it. How could he?
Gavril wanted his death in exchange for his wife’s blood.
Nikias had nothing left to live for.
He’d failed to get justice for Faustina against the demon. He’d failed to get rid of her lookalike to spare his brother the agony of a wife who would never love him. He’d failed in his promise to Aimilia to give her the only man she ever wanted.
The demon escaped and got her wedding, her husband, her happy ending, and everything she’d taken from him. Torturing her lookalike hadn’t changed anything. It had only put more blood on his hands.
And in doing so he’d destroyed the one thing he had left. His brother.
So Nikias would let his brother spill his blood until there was none left if that was what he wanted.
Let it be over.
There was no hope left for a creature like him.
His beloved wife six feet under. Her murderer free and laughing at her victory. His brother’s hatred sealed by the blood coating Nikias’ hands. The woman he loved…
“I wish the Desero demon had killed you instead.”
How could he blame her?
“Finally. We have something in common.”
Aimilia—
Nikias’ vision began to clear through the haze of pain.
He would know her beautiful red hair anywhere. She was staring right at him, and now that he was looking at her there was no force strong enough to make him look away.
Was she there to relish in seeing his death?
No. She hadn’t been there at the beginning.
He would have seen her. He would have taken even just the fraction of a second he could to look at her one last time before he let his brother kill him. Nikias loved nothing more than torture. It didn’t matter if it was someone else’s or his own. Whatever was closest, he would find a way to begin carving.
So, if she hadn’t been there to watch as her wish came to pass…
Gavril continued to carry his Sordes wife, the girl too weak to walk another step.
Maybe Nikias had been wrong about her. It wasn’t completely hopeless. The way she’d thrown herself at Gavril, what else could it mean but she loved him? But that didn’t explain how she’d gotten there in the first place.
Aimilia.
The Sordes girl would have had no idea this was occurring, nor the strength to make it out there alone.
Aimilia had brought her here. The Sordes girl would never want Nikias’ life spared after what he’d done. The only possibility was that Aimilia had convinced her to beg for Nikias’ life.
Aimilia had wanted Gavril to have mercy on him.
Aimilia wanted him to live.
She was the only one who didn’t scatter as Gavril approached. She kept holding Nikias’ gaze, and if he could get his legs to cooperate, he just might start crawling toward her.
