“You have nothing to apologize for. You were tortured and cursed by my hands. I?—”
Finnian ripped away, heart pounding. He studied Cassian, searching to locate the wears and tears of the past nearly two centuries, to acknowledge all the changes.
Finnian wanted to know when Cassian had started wearing his hair shorter on the sides, who had given him the watch on his wrist—because he knew Cassian would never take time out of his day to purchase something for himself—or when the sunlight had faded from his gaze. He looked barely alive. A husk, likeone of Finnian’s ghouls, forced to walk the earth with their soul tethered to their flesh, hollow and vacant.
Oh gods.Finnian tightened his grip on the tops of Cassian’s shoulders to stop himself from kissing him, to breathe life back into his soul. He could feel the haste of time clipping at their heels. Years had passed. What was the situation with Ruelle now? What had driven Cassian to curse him?
“The blood,” Finnian said. “We must finish this. You cursed me, which means Ruelle?—”
Cassian hauled him back into a hug. “We will.”
Finnian fell silent, momentarily relishing in Cassian’s warmth, the firm beat of his heart. “I have a feeling we are strapped for time.Please.” His whole body was on edge, fueled with an urgency that stemmed from the tightening in his gut to get a move on.
“I never should’ve let you do it,” Cassian murmured.
He didn’t like this. The way Cassian held him, as if it was the last time, or the way he spoke, airing a grievance he’d carried around for far too long.
Finnian pushed off his chest and took a step back. His limbs quivered, but he squared his jaw and said, “I’ll call for Alke. We have to end this.”
Cassian lightly held onto the tips of his fingers, staring down at them, wistful and terrifyingly melancholic.
“Finnian,” he said, lifting his gaze, “let me have this moment.”
Their eyes met and the sides of Finnian’s throat constricted. There it was again. A note of finality, drawing near.
“Why?” Finnian lashed out, tearing his hand from Cassian. He wiped at his tear-stained cheeks.
A pathetic smile formed on Cassian’s lips. “Because I do not know what the future holds, and I would like to savor thismoment with you. It is the only thing that has kept me going for the last century and a half.”
Finnian’s heart plunged into his stomach. “Stop talking as if this is our final moment together. We have walked this far. I will not let anything stop us.”
At the flare of his frustration, the ringing sounded in his head. A distant, haunting buzz snagged down his jaw, rattled in his teeth.
He ground his molars.
“Finnian.” Cassian’s weary plea tightened his chest.
The breath went light in his lungs. “No.” His voice wobbled.
Rotating towards the grove, he ignored the thrumming in his skull and put his fingers to his mouth. He inhaled deeply, but as he went to whistle, the breath stuttered out at the view of the ruined garden.
Ember-lit remains of charred stems and dust blackened the ground.
You ruin everything—everyone you love.
A lump swelled in his throat.
The itch burrowed like a corkscrew, and he cringed.
He rolled his neck against the writhing nerves under his skin and blew against his pinched fingers.
The high-pitch call rang through the darkened sky.
“Stop.” All emotion drained from Cassian’s voice and filled with alert. “Something is off.”
Alke emerged down from the charcoal-soaked clouds and into the stream of moonlight, his cobalt feathers glistening like raindrops.
“No!” Cassian thrusted out his arm. Bands from his gilded abyss shot forth.
