“Wildfire.” His voice broke on my name. “If this is how it ends, know that loving you was worth it all. You're my heart, my wife, my everything.”
We stood together longer than we should, needing this contact.
“At least we're together.” I pressed closer to him.
“Always, wife. Even if it's the last thing we do.”
“Two days,” I said softly. “She doesn't have to do anything now. She can sit back and watch the curse do her work for her.”
We scanned the dreary space that looked eerily the same as the one we’d found ourselves in while inside the labyrinth.
Rough-hewn stone walls and floor.
A narrow bunk with a ratty blanket.
A solitary, guttering torch in the hallway beyond.
No windows, of course.
Irridain’s dungeon.
Chapter 39
Lore
Rushing around Reyla, I slammed my shoulder against the barred door, testing its strength. I was doing the exact same thing I’d done inside the labyrinth, but I couldn’t hold myself back.
Two days was not enough time.
The metal gave the same faint hum, magic pulsing through the iron.
My head pounded harder.
“Stop.” Reyla tugged me away. “You’re hurt.” She pointed to the bunk. “Sit. Let me look at your head.”
“It’s fine.” I needed to get her out of here, but how? I tried to pull in magic, but nothing happened, either from the injury to my head or they’d placed a block on the cell.
She glared, pointing at the bunk. “I said sit.”
I smirked. Tried to, though I had a feeling it came out crooked because tears welled in her eyes. I hated seeing her hurt, and in this case, my stubbornness was adding to her pain.
When I slumped on the bunk, she climbed onto her knees behind me, gently parting my hair to look at the back of my head.
“No cuts, but damn them for hurting you. How does your head feel?”
“It’s protesting loudly.”
She slid off the bunk and gestured. “Lay down then.”
“Absolutely not.”
“But you?—”
I tugged her down onto my lap and wrapped my arms around her struggling body. “Reyla. Stop.”
She stilled, pressing her face into my chest, crying even harder.
I hadn’t meant to cause her pain. A heavy weight crushed my chest, and I’d swear something vital had been broken inside me. If only I could take back every harsh word I’d ever said to her, every time I’d sneered or made her feel she was anything but perfect.
