Davyn met him outside the great hall, on the street. “Are you all right?”
No, but he didn’t want to confide in his friend right now. “Fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
Davyn would know.
Urian gave him a droll stare. “Why are you annoying me?”
“I like to annoy you. Besides, I know the look on your face.”
“What look?”
“The one that says you have someone.”
Urian stopped dead in his tracks as horror pounded through him. This was one secret he couldn’t afford to let anyone know. Not even Davyn. “Pardon?”
“You heard me. Who is she?”
Urian shook his head. “You’re wrong. I have no one.”
Davyn caught his arm and held him in place. “Don’t, Urian. This is me you’re talking to. Just like when Paris was afraid to tell your father about us because he didn’t know how he’d react. Just like when you were afraid to tell anyone about Xyn. I know you better than anyone. Who is she?”
Damn it to hell.
Davyn was a little ferret and whenever he had something like this, he was fixated. Either Urian told him, or he’d have no peace.
Glancing about, Urian drew in a sharp breath. “That,I can’t tell anyone. Not even you.”
“Does she make you happy?”
He laughed bitterly. “I don’t know. I’ve barely spoken to her. But then, I guess the question is if anything in life ever makes anyone truly happy.”
“No, Uri, that’s not the question. The question is, can you live without her?”
Urian glanced down to all the teardrops on his arm and hand that marked all the people he’d loved and lost over the centuries. Including his twin. Of all the losses, Paris’s had hurt the most. He still couldn’t bear to think of it.
And he knew how hard that death had been for Davyn. To this night, Davyn had never been able to take another husband. Had never even tried to find someone else.
Because no one could replace Paris.
Each death had been a gut wound. Each one a laceration to his heart that Urian had never thought to survive.
Yet here he was.
Numb and not.
Damn you, life. Damn you straight to hell.
“You really want to make that comment to me?”
Davyn placed his hand over Urian’s tattoos and gave a hard squeeze. “How about this then, Urian? Surely after all you’ve sacrificed and done for your people, after all you’ve lost in your lifetime, don’t you think you deserve for the heavens to send down an angel to finally save you?”
November 29, 1988
At midnight, Urian tapped on Phoebe’s bedroom window.
Dressed in a pink dorm shirt and thick yellow bathrobe, she pulled back the curtains to see him there. Her eyes widened. Then she immediately let out a squeak and ran to a mirror to check her hair.
