The dark god shrugged, carelessly dropping the dagger. It hit the grass with a soft thud, one Andrian felt rumble through the earth.
Kol’s lips were moving, but he spoke too softly for Andrian to hear. Andrian reached for Mariah with his mind, desperate for a flicker. All he felt from her was emptiness—defeated, crushing, rioting emptiness.
It hadn’t worked.
The gods had lied.
Ithadn’t worked.
Kol smiled. In that smile, Andrian saw the embodiment of every one of his deepest, darkest fears. All the little things that woke him in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, all the forgotten demons that would wash away beneath the scent of eucalyptus and jasmine.
His fear became a wild, piercing thing. He lunged forward, shadows unfurling from his hands like a whip. He might’ve screamed Mariah’s name, yet another empty shout slicing through the otherwise still air.
He was too slow.
Andrian could only watch, too far and too helpless, as Kol’s shadows—as sharp and deadly as any blade—plunged into Mariah’s chest.
Chapter 94
She didn’t see Kol’s blade of shadows.
She’d hardly heard his soft-spoken words. “My turn, little goddess.” That’s what she thought he’d said, before his darkness plunged her world into ice.
Mariah couldn’t feel the pain. Not really. It simply melded with the agony already tearing through her soul, weaving together like the tangled threads of her magic until there was nothing left but numb emptiness.
Someone screamed. She didn’t think it was her. The voice was far too deep, and she was far too numb.
The strength in her legs failed. She dropped slowly to her knees, hitting the soft grass with a thud. Her chest was wet, and she was cold, so very, very cold. Her dagger sat in the grass a few paces away, clean and shining and mocking in the ashes of her family home.
She wondered who lied to her. Had it been Sebastian and Ciana? No, they wouldn’t. Maybe it was the gods. Maybe in their eternal lives, they’d taken a sick joy in watching her scramble around the continent like a rat desperate for its next meal. Maybe that was the real reason Callamus had left, so he could laugh at her mistakes from afar.
Not that it really mattered. None of it mattered, not anymore.
Something warm hit her, solidness wrapping around her cold weakness. Rain and sandalwood, but it smelled right this time. She couldn’t stop herself from using the last of her strength to turn, burying her nose in that warmth, and drawing a deep breath.
Or as deep as she could manage. Thick liquid bubbled in her lungs, the taste of iron flooding her tongue.
Blood.
She didn’t care. He was so warm, so perfect, all the things she needed and craved. And she was so, so cold.
“Don’t you dare close your eyes,nio.”
Had she? She hadn’t realized. Not until she fluttered them open, latching on to that crushing, beautiful, haunting tanzanite blue.
The color was a little blurry, though. Was that her? Or was he crying? She opened her mouth to ask, but no words would come.
Andrian clung to her with a desperation that would have warmed her if the ice hadn’t already taken root. “No,nio. Not like this. You cannot leave me. Not after everything. Do you hear me?”
She blinked. Yes, she heard him. Of course, she heard him.
That didn’t mean she could listen.
Something warm splashed on her cheek. A tear. “I’ll be your king,” Andrian croaked, voice cracking. “I don’t care anymore. I don’t care about any of it, other than you. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. All you have to do isstay.”
“All I ever wanted was you.” She tried to push the words down their bond, but even that…her magic was slipping through her, falling away, unraveling from all the places it hid. She couldn’t find her bonds, not even that shadowed one that never closed.
“Please,” Andrian begged, his voice falling into a broken whisper. He brushed a palm over her face, and she wanted so desperately to lean into it. “Please. You promised me that we would do this together.Together,nio. You cannot break that promise.”
