“Sleeping,” I said, my voice a hollow, dead thing. And still, I could not deny the truth to this female who loved my mate. “The King sleeps in Avalon. And it is all my fault.”
31
VEYKA
“Veyka.”
A soft voice. Imploring but gentle. Not across the room, but beside me on the bed. A warm hand encircled mine, the fingers daintier but the will they manifested so strong.
“Tell me, Veyka.”
I wanted to collapse. I wanted to scream and cry. But that hollowness was taking over again. I tried to shove it back, tried to let myself feel. Feel Arran, feel the love he’d given me, the love I’d finally let myself feel in return.
“He was holding Arran. He was going to kill him. And Arran was going to let him.”
Go, Veyka.
“Arran was ready to die, so that I could live.”
I love you, Veyka.
“He did not realize…” I couldn’t breathe. My voice was hoarse, gasping. “I don’t want to live without him. I can’t—”
My voice broke.
Please.
I broke.
The hollow emptiness was no match for this—my love for Arran, my heartbreak at his loss. I felt everything. Every inch of my body screamed at the loss, the acute pain of a part of myself ripped out and missing.
The hand tightened around mine.
I clenched it tighter. Bones cracked. But I could not stop myself. “How? How could he not know? That without him there is nothing? I am nothing?”
Save yourself.
I couldn’t see through my eyes. I was wet. Not with sweat now, but hot salty tears that covered my face, fell on my chest, slid down between my breasts. I was melting. Dying.
“I used my power. I threw the sword. I killed G—” I choked on the name, unable to let it past my lips. “But I was thrown off balance. The sword went into Arran’s chest…”
Elayne gasped. I held tighter, lifted our joined hands until they were between us. Trying to make her understand.
“We were wearing the scabbards. Each of us. Our blood cannot be spilled while we are wearing the scabbards. He was supposed to be safe.”
Hair flying. Longer hair. Hair Arran had tangled his fingers in. Arran, oh Arran. My mate, my love. My mistake.
“But not from me. I can draw my own blood, even with the scabbard. And the mating bond… we are not safe from one another. He wasn’t safe from me.”
“I begged the Lady of the Lake to take him to Avalon, where no one can die.”
I released her hand.
All that remained of me was the bond. The fragile, tenuous golden thread now stretched across realms was the only thing about me that mattered anymore. But I did not deserve it. I did not deserve him. I knew it, and now Elayne did as well.
“And then I left him. I came here to warn you, to try to save Annwyn. I left my mate.” And I hated myself for it every second of every breath of my miserable, cursed existence.
It should have been me.
