“Darius.” I reached up and slipped my hand through his hair. “You’re alive.”
“Because of you.”
“I don’t... I don’t know how I’m doing this.”
“Ah.” Caterpillar’s voice drifted over us, slow and measured. “The oldest riddle of all.” A curl of smoke floated past. “What makes the weak strong? What makes the fearful brave? What can stop time, cheat death, and move mountains—yet cannot be held in your hand?”
I blinked at him, too exhausted for riddles.
“The answer, little witch, is the same reason you came back.” His half-lidded eyes glittered. “The same reason he dragged himself across this cavern with an arrow wound in his side.”
My head was still foggy, thoughts swimming like fish through murky water.
He’d done that? Dragged himself across the cavern? For me?
No. I pushed the flutter of hope down before it could take root. He only came to thank me. Maybe out of guilt for me being wounded. That’s all this was. Gratitude. Obligation.
Men like Darius didn’t fall for broken witches who couldn’t control their magic. Men like him didn’t want disasters waiting to happen.
Hell, look at Angelo Santi. The vampire king made witches who couldn’t control their power disappear. No trial. No second chances. Just... gone.
Why would Darius be any different?
Darius’ hand tightened on mine. “I can’t believe you risked your life for me. Don’t do that again.” He searched my eyes. “Why would you do that?”
“Love,” Caterpillar said softly. “The most illogical, irrational, powerful magic of all. It cannot be taught. Cannot be controlled.” A slow exhale. “And apparently... cannot be stopped.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. Love? No. That was ridiculous. I barely knew Darius. I couldn’t?—
But my heart was pounding. And I couldn’t quite meet his eyes.
Love wasn't for people like me. People with broken magic and broken pasts. People who destroyed everything they touched. Darius deserved better than a witch who couldn't control her own power. Who'd almost died because she didn't know what she was doing.
Caterpillar was wrong. That’s not why Darius made his way over here. Not for love. Not for me.
He’d come out of obligation. Guilt. And now he was pulling away, just like I knew he would.
I blinked hard, refusing to let the tears fall. “Fine. Next time I’ll let you die.”
His face hardened, but he didn’t have a response.
Neither Caterpillar nor Chester came back with a snappy comeback or a riddle.
Doc dabbed my forehead with a rag. “How are you feeling, Alice?”
“Tired.” And heartbroken. But I kept that little tidbit to myself.
Grump and another man carried a cot over toward me. They set it next to mine.
“Don’t plan on carrying your ass across the cavern again, Hatter,” Grump said. “Now crawl back in bed before you pass out. I’ve got enough to worry about without you bleeding all over my floor.”
Darius slid off my cot onto his. His arms were shaking, and he looked like he was about to pass out again.
The minute he hit the cot, he was out.
He'd dragged himself across the cavern with an arrow wound. For me. And now he looked half-dead again. I told myself I didn't care. The lie sat heavy in my throat.
Doc hurried over and pressed his hand to Darius’ forehead. Then listened to his heart. “He’s stable. Just needs rest. That was too much for him—coming all the way across the cavern like that.”
