“Shut up, Rafe. I need to concentrate.”
Rafe’s hand tightens around my wrist, forcing me to look at him.
His eyes are glassy, yet calm.
It terrifies me.
“Find them.”
“I can’t.” My jaw clenches. “He didn’t give me anything.”
“You-you will,” he stutters out.
My throat closes. It feels like a part of me is dying as I watch him struggle to breathe. I lean closer, pressing harder against the wound, panic creeping in like a tide I can’t stop. “Don’t talk.”
Rafe coughs again, then winces. “You—you fix things.”
I stare at him, helpless, furious, shaking. “You were supposed to drag me out of hell.”
Rafe’s gaze softens. “I did.”
I swallow hard. “Not like this.”
Rafe’s breath trembles. “Listen to me.”
My eyes lock onto his.
Rafe’s voice drops, raw. “You can’t . . . you can’t kill the whole world alone.”
“I can,” I snap, tears burning behind my eyes like acid, “and I will.”
Rafe’s mouth curves faintly. “For her.”
“For her,” I confirm.
Rafe’s eyelids flutter. His hand slips from my wrist.
“No,” I bark, grabbing his hand and squeezing hard. “No. Don’t you dare.”
Rafe’s lips part, breathing shallow. “Lorenzo . . .” The way he says my name sounds like an apology, and a tear falls from my eyes.
I press my forehead to his. “Stay.”
Rafe exhales, weak. “Tell . . . tell Matteo I died doing something . . . noble.”
A broken laugh tears out of me. “I will.”
Rafe’s mouth twitches, and a silent sob lodges in my throat.
Rafe’s eyes drift, unfocused. “I-I’m . . .” he whispers.
“Rafe?” I rasp.
“S-sorry,” he breathes out, eyes shutting.
My throat tightens so hard it hurts. “Rafe,” I whisper.
He exhales once.
