“How could you when we had no proof of what Arnel had done?”
He sighed heavily. “Regardless, it’s in the past now. What’s done is done.”
He already spoke of his fate as though it’d happened, which made me furious but tender at the same time. Because Kole wasn’t one to wallow in self-pity, nor was he one to pretend events weren’t happening. He was a realist. As he’d told me all those weeks ago when we’d flown on his enchanted carpet out of Inisville. He knew the infection within him was spreading. Just as he knew it was near impossible that the Imperial Council would invent a cure in time to stop its progression. He was going to turn into a vamfeer, and he knew there was no fighting it.
“What will the Council do if you change?”
His throat bobbed against me. “The same thing we’ve done to all vamfeers.”
“Even to you? They’ll kill you?”
His arms tightened. “If I’m not safe around others?—”
“No. I’ll keep everyone safe. I can do that. My magic can prevent you from hurting anyone. I won’t allow them to kill you.”
He didn’t respond. He kept holding me, and in that moment, I realized how much the odds were stacked against us. Kole would change. If I somehow managed to keep the Council from ending him, my life would revolve around using my magic to keep Kole controlled.
But I would do it. Even if he tried to hurt me. Even if he was no longer him.
“I’ll always love you,” I said in a choked voice. “No matter what. No matter what you become, I’ll love you, and I won’t leave you.”
His throat bobbed again. “Come,” he said quietly.
Forcing myself to move, I walked stiffly down the hall with him. When we reached my door, Xaven was gone.
“Are all of the Imperial Warriors off the palace grounds?”
Kole nodded. “They are. All will be reassigned elsewhere starting tomorrow.”
I licked my lips, almost too afraid to ask, “And...you? Has the Council made any demands of you?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “No. Given what’s going to happen, I’ve been relieved of all duties.”
Because he was infected.
My throat tightened, but he didn’t need to spend his remaining time constantly consoling and reassuring me.
He’d been strong for me, and now I needed to be strong for him. I flung my arms around him but didn’t allow any further tears. “Stay with me. Stay with me always. Even when you—” I swallowed thickly. “Even as a vamfeer, you can’t hurt me, not because of what I am. I won’t leave you. Even if you’re no longer you, and you don’t know who I am. Even if you try to hurt me, I’m not leaving you. We’re together forever. No matter what.”
His voice grew thick. “Prim, I don’t know what the Council will ultimately do or what state of mind I’ll be in after I change. I may not...”
For the first time, his composure fractured, and I cupped his cheeks and pressed kisses along his jaw. “I know, but you’re my mate. I’llneverleave you. No matter what.”
He groaned and pulled me back into his embrace. He held me tightly, and even though none of this was fair, even thoughneither of us had done anything to deserve these horrific fates, we were together through the end.
No matter what came.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
True to our promises to one another, Kole didn’t leave me. He stayed in my chambers that night, not departing, and I knew we would be together until the end.
Moonlight spilled through the windows, and Kole slept like the dead. I reasoned it was probably because he’d been awake for so long, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he was already showing a symptom. Fatigue had been one of the first symptoms to appear in Timith.
Of course, I didn’t sleep. Being able to watch Kole slumber in my bed at a time when our future now felt precarious was a gift I didn’t want to waste.
But I didn’t stay idle. My mind was a buzz as I tried to think of some way to help him. Even knowing that I still dealt with my uncle’s commands didn’t seem as important. Even if I was forced to alter my loved one’s thoughts, they would still be alive. Still whole. Still healthy. They wouldn’t be vamfeers. Not as Kole would become.
I chewed on my lip, thinking and searching for some way to stop the inevitable, and when the sun began to rise, I remembered something.
