“Don’t do that—you don’t pull away from me, okay? There’s so much I want to tell you, but, as you just said, we’ve not exactly been blessed with time.” He rests his forehead against hers. “Don’t ever pull away from me.”
Astrid lets out a breath, surprised that he’s being so open and intimate in front of Jelani, but glad he is, because the last thing she wants to do is pull away from Zryan. She rests her palm over his chest, the proud thump of his heartbeat steadying her.
“I hate to interrupt,” Jelani says flatly, “but this is also pretty fucking time-sensitive, Z. The queen met them in the grounds when they brought Simone in.”
She sighs and lets go of Zryan, but he keeps hold of her hand; and when she looks at him, she sees the muscle flicker in his jaw, the hard line of his mouth as he studies Jelani. The Dreki has the good sense to look afraid.
“Astrid goes into that cage today. To duel.” The other man swallows nervously. “I’m going to help Simone, and the others, but my girl has to go and fight for her fucking life, and I’d like to have a moment with her before I have to leave, do you understand?” Jelani nods. “You can wait outside. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Jelani picks up his helmet and makes for the door, but he hesitates, turning to Astrid. “Good luck today, Princess Astrid. I’m sorry—we’re all sorry—that it’s come to this.”
He gives her a small, sorrowful smile, then walks out the door. She didn’t realize it was possible that a man she barely knows could say something that would make her feel seen and desperately sad at the same time. And then there’s Zryan, saying what he said.
“I’m your girl, am I?” She traces her fingers along his jaw until it relaxes.
He snatches her hand and brushes a kiss against her knuckles. “Too fucking right you are.”
She’s his girl, and only he could describe her as a girl and not end up dead for it. She’s his girl, but only for a few hours longer.
It’s harder, then, to get air inside her lungs, and she hears herself start to wheeze, her throat start to constrict. Zryan picks her up and in two strides is in an armchair with Astrid on his lap, pulling her face into his neck, wrapping his arms tight around her, rubbing her spine.
“Breathe,” he murmurs, “breathe. Nice and slow.” And she tries, but her body isn’t responding. It only seems to fight harder and she hates the sound she’s making, she hates how weak she is. “Remember what we spoke about last night, when you told me of your Goddess. She is a survivor, and so are you, Astrid.”
She gulps in a sliver of air.
“Listen to my voice,” he says, deep, soothing. He lifts her palm, placing it on his chest. “Focus on my heartbeat. Every beat of it is for you.” She grips him tighter. “I tried, you know. For so long, to see if there was a way to stop the duel, but found nothing. I gave up, years ago. Until you, that is. I’ve studied the Covenant, spoken to every expert, been in the library looking for something,anything, that can break the spell that binds you to this duel.”
Her heart rate is slowing, her lungs expanding. “That’s why you were always in the library?” she says.
He nods, kissing a tear away. “At first because I thought Skylar would lose and I couldn’t bring myself to kill you before the Blood Binding.” Astrid can’t help the chuckle at how matter-of-fact he is about that. “And then, when I learned about Skylar’s power, I was doing it because I can’t bear the thought of you in that cage, I cannot accept that I am powerless to save you. So, for selfish reasons, both times. I did tell you last night how selfish I am.”
Goddess, this man is anything but selfish. She grasps his cheeks, but he shakes his head.
“I can’t let you go in there. Just—don’t go in there. Astrid, I failed you, I failed you both.” Astrid clings onto him, dazed by what he’s done, at everything he’s done—for her, for his kingdom and the Blooded. No one knows the best of him. This brave, brilliant, beautiful man. And he’s hers.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, today of all days. I am so lucky. To have you. We’re all so lucky to have you. But, Zryan.” She feels the stutter of his pulse, hears the snag of his breath. “I have to go in there. If I don’t, I die anyway. And you have to go and help Simone. There’s nothing you can do for me, but you can do something for her.”
She peels herself off him, cups his cheek, and makes him look at her. His eyes are haunted. Devastated. His lips are on hers a moment later, and the kiss is so soft, so achingly tender, it almost breaks her heart.
“Go, Zryan.” He closes his eyes, drags her closer to him. “Zryan, you go and get that woman out, now.” He squeezes his eyes tight shut, then opens them, pulls her in again to kiss her, and she knows it’s his goodbye, that he’s going to do as she’s asked of him.
“Astrid, I…” He hesitates. Her stomach is twisting. She wonders if she’ll be sick. “I need you to live.”
“And Skylar?” Stars, she is actually going to be sick. They’re dueling today. They have to duel today.
He runs his hands through his hair, tormented. “I don’t want her to die.”
“Then what are you saying, Zryan, because it can’t be both.” Her voice cracks. “One of us has to die in that arena.”
He stares at her. “I’ll be there,” he says, with one last brush of his lips against hers. He stands, grabs a shirt hanging on the back of a chair, and shrugs it on. “I’ll be there with you.”
She’s numb as she watches him walk away from her. He turns back, one last time. Astrid’s heart lurches.
“I already told you—I choose you. I will always choose you.”
49Skylar
Skylar is escorted from her room down to the grounds by three random guards. She wonders briefly why it’s not Axel coming to get her—though perhaps that’s easier, all things considered. She wonders, too, where Simone is—and why she’s been replaced.
