This is the end of everything for one of us.
“Killing me won’t break the vow,” she says. Maybe she’s hoping I’ll change my mind and back off. But she crossed a line, and now I have too.
She barely has time to shift. I’m already leaping at her, jaws wide and death on my tongue.
13
I lean back against the tree among the broken chains. I’m hurting too badly to interfere with the sisters’ conflict. Besides, what could I, a simple potions witch, do against a pair of feral kelpies? Nothing, that’s what. They gotta work this out between themselves.
I want to tell Marlowe that it’s okay—that she doesn’t have to kill her sister just because the bitch grabbed my junk. But I know it’s not solely about that. It’s also about the murdered horses. It’s about Marlowe being able to feel safe in her own home, not just now, but in the future. It’s about sending a message to her family that anyone who tries to force her back into the herd will suffer.
In the near distance, the lighthouse stands on a high bluff. Its beam stretches out far across the water, but not much of the glow reaches this part of the coastline. The moon is bright, though, and by its light I watch the two horses battle, a twisted knot of thrashing legs and snapping teeth. They teeter on the edge of the inlet, then crash into the water, kicking up spray.
I’m dizzy from blood loss and sun exposure. All I want to do is lie down, but I keep watching. A cold dread solidifies in the pit of my stomach as I witness every brutal blow, every slash of teeth. They’re cutting each other up pretty bad.
Marlowe is older, but is she stronger? Can she win this thing?
Even if she does, I’m going to lose her. Her sister’s death won’t break the vow, so Marlowe will still have to leave Crescent Cove by midnight and return to her family. She’ll have to be some kelpie stallion’s broodmare for the rest of her life. I don’t even know where her herd lives. I’ll never see her again.
She’s not the only one who made a vow. I told her that I’d be making her coffee for a very long time. I want the chance to keep that promise.
Surely there’s something that can be done, some way to release her from the vow without her becoming an animal permanently. I know horses think and communicate, but no matter how majestic they are, they don’t have the kind of complex higher thought that humans do. If Marlowe breaks this vow, she might still have vestiges of herself, but it won’t be the same.
And goddammit, I’ll miss that insanely hot body of hers.
I’m thinking about this all wrong, focusing on what it means formewhen I should be concentrating on what it means forher. She gave up so much to save my life. She sacrificed her happiness, her very self, for someone she barely knows. That’s the kind of person she is.
That’s the kind of woman I've fallen in love with.
Marlowe is struggling, thrashing in the water. Her sister is trying to pin her against a boulder, bared jaws angling for her throat.
I crawl to the edge of the water, frantic and helpless, bursting with the words I need to say before this is over.
“Marlowe!” I roar. “I love you!”
My shout distracts both of them, but Marlowe recovers faster. She pushes her sister back, chest to chest, striking out with her hooves. Her exposed gums and sharp fangs gleam in the moonlight, and I hold my breath, captivated by the hideous beauty of her.
Valeria loses her footing, and as she wavers, Marlowe kicks her sharply, shoves with one shoulder, and manages to knock her down. Valeria crashes to her side in the shallowest part of the inlet, thrashing in the foam, her body mostly submerged. Her neck straightens as she snaps at Marlowe, but Marlowe evades the clashing jaws and plants a triumphant hoof on her sister’s side.
It’s over. How the ending plays out will be up to Marlowe.
Marlowe changes her stance, one hoof pinning her sister’s throat. Valeria’s muzzle barely stays above the churning water.
Instantly Valeria transforms, turning into vulnerable soft flesh beneath her sister’s hooves. It’s as if she thinks turning human will make Marlowe relent. And she’s right, because my darling woman is nothing if not merciful. She transforms, too, but her skin still ripples with more muscle than usual, her teeth remain sharp, and her hair is much longer, draped over her body like a magnificent black cloak streaked with glimmering aqua. It’s like the shift back to humanity is partly complete, but not quite.
Marlowe rams her sister against the rocks, one arm across Valeria’s neck.
“Go ahead,” Valeria rasps. “Kill me. It won’t change anything. You have to go home either way.”
“I still have a choice,” Marlowe responds. “And so do you. Speak the glashtyn vow. Swear to me that you will never try to contact me again, that you will never threaten me or mine, and that you’ll do everything in your power to keep the other members of the herd away from me as well. If you do that, I’ll spare your life.”
Valeria chokes out a harsh laugh.
Marlowe crushes her harder against the rock and snarls, skimming the tips of her fangs along the side of Valeria’s throat.
“I abdicate,” Marlowe spits out. “Tell the herd that I’m no longer a member of the bloodline. I don’t care if it’s not the way things used to be done—it's the way things arenow. Swear the vow. Go home. Take the role of the first daughter. Dispatch our mother to her ancestors and mate with the first stallion yourself. Or you can die here. Either way, I’m done.”
“You know what happens if you break the vow you made to me,” gasps Valeria.
