A low moan stuttered from her throat.
“I’m here,” I said, gripping her hand tighter. “I’m still here.” Where was Lore?
Her eyes opened. “You always were.”
Her chest hitched. Her hand went still in mine.
The hall was too quiet. No more breathing. No more pain. Just my sweet lady, lying limp beside me, her blood cooling beneath us.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t. My fingers curled around hers. I pressed her hand to my cheek and held it there.
“Sleep, Moira,” I croaked. “No more pain. The fates are waiting for you with open arms.”
I stayed there, holding her hand, until footsteps echoed behind me.
Lore rounded the corner with Dorion behind him.
Dorion’s face was red, and blood was trickling from his nose. Had someone hit him? I wanted to ask, but my heart was still being wrenched in two, and it was all I could do not to break down and sob.
“Dorion killed her.” Lore laid a hand on my shoulder.
I leaped to my feet and flung myself at Dorion.
He flitted to the opposite end of the hall, lifting his empty hands. “Let me explain. Please.”
“Explain what? You murdered my friend!”
“She was a memory golem.”
I reeled backward. “A what?”
Dorion's chest rose and fell, his hands trembling as he stepped closer. “She wasn't real, Reyla. Not like us.”
I shook my head, trying to deny it but… “She laughed at my jokes. She held my hand when I cried.”
“Made of memory and magic,” he continued, his voice cracking. “A construct shaped to feel familiar.”
“Shut up.” The words ripped from my throat. “She was kind. Loyal.”
“Built from what you wanted most.” Guilt made his eyes glisten. “Prager crafted her from your emotions.”
Fucking Prager was involved in this, of course. “She was my friend.”
Lore stepped between us, though he didn't stop me when I moved around him, taking another step toward Dorion.
“She played with Farris.” My shoulders fell. “She visited the kitchens. She was falling in love.”
“She was crafted from your longing for friendship.” Dorion's voice grew sharper. “For someone to see you in that empty court.”
My hands clenched into fists. “You're lying.”
“Did she try to make you think less of Lore?”
I frowned, unsure. That comment about running from him… “No,” I snarled. It couldn’t be true.”
“The memories you have?” He gestured toward Moira's body. “They were written into you. She was meant to worm her way in, to make you love her, then lead you astray.”
“Stop.”
