The world halts, suspended in a terrible, airless clarity where the only thing that moves is the blood draining from my face.
“No.” I shake my head, backing away a step. “No. You’re wrong. You’re lying. You’re a liar!”
“Elara…” Vale steps forward, and the movement is cautious, like he’s approaching a wild animal. “Go to Daron.Now.” His gaze finally lifts, his red-rimmed eyes finding mine. “I will follow shortly.”
“You aren’t going anywhere near him!” I shout, the anger flaring hot and bright as I point the knife at him. “Stay away from my brother!”
His face tightens as he grinds out, “I cannot.”
“You can! You’re Death! You’re a god!” My voice is a roar, sending a vibration through my skull that trembles my vision. I march toward him, almost piercing my knuckle with the exposed blade as I shove my fists against his chest. “Do something!”
Vale stumbles back under my shove. “Elara, you have to?—”
“Change it!” I shove him again, harder. He hits the potting table, tools rattling. “You told me… In the grave, you told me you can change it! Sochange it.Give him time!”
“I cannot give him more time!” Vale roars, the sound tearing out of his throat, growling with a terrible, immortal power that shakes the glass panes above us. “I already have!”
I freeze, panting, staring at him. “What?”
“When you found me with my hand on his chest, when—” His voice catches, infinite sorrow pooling in his eyes. “When you found me by his bed.” He inhales, a shuddering, broken sound. “And then, against my very nature, I did it again a few days ago. Elara, I…” He closes his eyes. When they open again, they’re glassed over. “Whatever time I could afford Daron, I wrung out of me under strain. There is no more time left to give.”
There is no more…
A ringing fills my ears, high and sharp. The greenhouse blurs. The roses smear into red and black streaks.
He kept him here.
He’s taking him now.
Daron is dying.Now.
“No. Vale, please…” I beg, pulling at his chest as much as I push and pound, all sense shattering into anxious desperation. “I just need more time! I just need to—” My voice breaks. “I just need to love you! I swear I could!”
The words rip something open in his face, his eyes going vulnerable and defenseless. “Elara,” he chokes out. “It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is…” My breath leaves me in a thin, useless pull, the greenhouse seemingly melting and fading away all at once. “Break the curse. Please, Vale, just…just break it.”
Vale flinches. “I can’t.”
“You made it!” A pound at his chest.Thud.“You can break it!” Another pound at his chest, so hard it trembles the blade of the knife.Thud.“Break the?—”
“Stop it. Stop it!” He grips my arms, trying to anchor me as I thrash against him. He shakes me once—sharp, desperate—forcing me to look at him, forcing me to see the terrible finality etched into every line of his face. “Daron will die.”
“No! Let go of me!” Panic, red-hot and blinding, explodes in my skull. It overrides thought. It overrides logic. It leaves only the primal, screaming instinct to save my brother. “I said, let…go!”
I wrench my arms back with a scream, tearing myself from his grip. My right hand lashes out in a blind arc. The curved blade catches—a split second of resistance, and then a smooth, sickening slide.
A fine, heavy mist sprays warm across my face.
I blink, confused, wiping my cheek.
Why are my fingers so slick? Why are they red?
Vale makes a sound—a wet, choked gulp that bubbles in the silence. His eyes blow wide, shock arresting the sorrow in them. He staggers back a step, one hand flying up to his neck as he looks down at his chest, where bright, impossible crimson floods over his white cravat.
A whimper tears from my throat, high and terrified, piercing the fog of my panic as I stumble toward him. “Oh my god…”
He sways, looking at me with those wide, bewildered eyes.
