Yù’chén falls to the floor. He is very still but for his chest, rising and falling in shallow breaths. The cold light of the moon from his realm beyond the gateway spills over his figure as his veins darken and scales spread across his skin. His demon’s form, revealed as his demonic magic works desperately to heal him.
I kneel before him. His clawed hands grip the hilt of Heart;his terrifying demon’s eyes, black with pinpricks of red, are focused on a spot on the floor.
Blood pools beneath his chest, and black ichor leaks from his wound, dissipating like smoke. The surface of the gateway shudders again.
Gently, I touch my fingers to Yù’chén’s cheeks. He flinches and closes his eyes, bringing an arm up to cover his face. “Don’t,” he rasps.
“You…” I don’t have the words. My voice catches; my throat is too tight.
“Àn’ying,” he pants. “Please. Grant me…some dignity.”
But I reach for his scaled shoulders. Pull his arm from his face. Take in every darkened vein running across his skin, the curve of his fangs, the length of his claws. The demon’s form that he has been so reviled for.
“Tell me this isn’t real,” I whisper. I’m cold all over, shaking; I keep looking to the hilt of Heart in his chest, the blood flowing from his wound that isn’t slowing.
The corner of his lip curves. When he speaks, his words are so faint, I barely catch them. “It’s real.”
The ichor leaking from his chest begins to slow. The dark veins on his skin are fading, the scales and claws and fangs retracting. And then I’m looking into a most beautiful human face—one that captured my heart once upon a time in the woods of the mortal realm.
Yù’chén’s chest rises and falls as his breathing grows labored. His lips are pale when he says, touching a finger to Heart’s hilt, “You meant it this time.”
The first time I tried using Heart against him, my own traitorous will stayed my hand. He lived and kept Heart with him.
“Did you know I would?” I whisper.
He blinks, then gives a single, slow nod.
“Then why?” My voice cracks. Somewhere outside, beyond these doors, freedom for the mortal realm is spreading its wings—but instead of victory, I feel in this moment as though I have lost everything.
“I promised you,” Yù’chén mumbles, “that I’d do everything in my power to give you what I can of the world you wanted.”
Warmth slides down my cheeks. I feel cheated: I thought our farewell in the immortal realm meant severing whatever we once felt for each other. That we’d both chosen our families and our kingdoms over each other.
Knowing he is choosing me after all feels like a betrayal. A debt I’ll never be able to repay.
“I’ll admit, I thought of doing the worst things you assumed of me,” Yù’chén continues. “I thought of taking you away and making you mine. But you taught me that selfishness isn’t love; that true love is selfless. That our fates can change because of the choices we make in our lives.” His lashes flutter. “Those nights you spent in the Palace of the Aurora, I heard you dreaming of afternoons beneath your plum tree with your mother and Méi’zi. I wanted to gift you that. And I realized there was only one way I could. Because…because sometimes, love means letting go.”
Words I once spoke to him beneath the stars of his realm. Words that are now breaking my heart.
Yù’chén lifts a hand and touches my cheek. Drops of my tears cling to his fingers when he pulls away.
“Thank you,” he murmurs. He blinks rapidly, his chest rising and falling fast. Too fast. “Stay,” he says suddenly, reaching for my hand. “Stay this time. Please.”
“I’m here, Yù’chén.”
His eyes search mine.
“I keep having a dream,” he whispers. “The same dream. I’m in a forest, and I’ve been searching my entire life for something, but I don’t know what it is. Then I hear someone say my name, and suddenly, I know in my soul that I’ve found what I’m looking for.”
I stare at him, my heart pounding.The same dream.
He stands in the clearing, turning toward me as though time has slowed—a painting in the rising dawn.
Hair, billowing like swirls of ink.
Eyes, flashing like golden embers.
The phantom of a smile on his face as his gaze lifts to meet mine—
