“If I’d known my dying would stir such a reaction in you, I’d have done it sooner,” I say in a hoarse voice, my breath ragged as I attempt a weak joke.
She swats at my chest, more tears flowing from her storm-cloud blue eyes.
“What were you thinking, Blaise? Why, why would you do that?”
“Your life was in danger,” I answer simply. Isn’t it obvious?
“And now yours is hanging by a thread,” she says, sniffling. “Where are those fucking healers?” She screams forcefully, limping warriors scurrying out of the room at the command in her voice.
“My death would be inconsequential.” I answer between wet coughs. “Yours would be too much to bear, moonlight. Haven’t you figured that out?”
My words freeze her fidgeting; her pupils swallow the blue before her lips come crashing down on mine in a kiss I’d almost given up on. Her soft lips move gently against mine, as if she’s scared she’ll break me further. I muster up the last dregs of vitality left in me and part her trembling mouth with my tongue, exploring slowly, languidly.
She makes a choked sound in the back of her throat, something between a moan and a sob, and I smile inwardly. If this is what death tastes like, I’d welcome it again and again, a sacrificial lamb on the altar of her being.
“Hold on, Blaise,” she whispers against my lips, her jasmine-scented breath warming my shivering skin.
“I wouldn’t dream of going anywhere, moonlight,” I answer before darkness finally envelops me.
Chapter 21
Aimee
Timeflowsdifferentlyinthe underbelly of a monstrous mountain. There’s no sense of day or night as we trudge on, walking until we can no longer stand, taking only small respites when our bodies betray us, succumbing to exhaustion.
Even vampires need rest.
Killian’s deep in slumber, his back against the granite wall, his head slumped forward while his hands clench his two faithful daggers, Kadirah and Alnashar. Even in sleep, he’s prepared to defeat his enemies.
My eyes trace the curve of his exposed neck, the angular lines of his stubbled jaw, dipping to the arch of his upper lip. He’s the most handsome male I’ve ever laid my eyes upon, and I don’t believe anyone else will ever measure up to that gentle, caring version of him.
Too bad he’s also the most insufferable, arrogant creature I’ve ever encountered.
Every time my rage dwindles to burning embers, I remember the callous way he treated me for weeks on end. How he refused to give me the benefit of the doubt, how he discarded me, even knowing the trauma I carried around like an unwavering chain around my soul. And yet, mybody betrays me time and time again, surrendering to his possessive touch, to his lingering kisses.
My mind may not be ready to forgive him, but the rest of me longs for the soul-soothing way he held me in his arms, for those whispered words of fervor that made me feel worthy for the first time in my life.
I don’t know what’s worse. To have felt that level of love and devotion and lose it, or to never experience it to begin with?
You can’t mourn something you never had.
In the darkness and surrounded by uncertainty is where demons thrive. Not the flesh and bones kind, no.
The inner ones. The ones that take the shape of my sister, that hiss with hatred in her voice.
They remind me I was never worthy, no matter what sugared lies Killian dripped in my ears in the throes of passion.
They mock me for my weakness, even as the Foretold One. So much power wasted on a weakling that cracked under pressure the first time she had to prove herself.
We almost died in that first trial because of me.
I hug my knees to my chest, focusing on my breathing instead of the deprecating thoughts. I can’t let myself spiral into self-loathing.
Not anymore.
I’m not perfect and I never will be, but I will have to be enough.
Enough to end Aurora’s reign of terror.
