He tucks his hands behind his back, studying me. “Until the dragons fly.”
I tilt my head. “Will it hurt?” I don’t know why I ask. I’m not afraid of pain. Or death.
“Your soul constantly trying to rip free from your body while it’s forced to remain there? Yes. Like a constant dull aching with sporadic bursts of more intense pain.”
I release a conflicted breath. I should be more freaked out, but I’m not. I always knew I’d do anything to save my people. Sacrificing myself doesn’t scare me. Besides, we could be looking at years before this happens. The fucker won’t give me any clue.
“Alright, well… I’ll see you when I die, then. Unless… there’s anything else you can tell me that will help?”
He hands me the dagger I came back for, and I shove it in a sheath. I knew the fucker somehow took it.
“One last thing… don’t fight it.”
“Fight what?” I lift my arms and drop them. I’m running out of patience with this guy.
“Love.”
“Please elaborate.”
“Elysande.”
“That… will never happen.”
“It happens in almost every future line I’ve seen where you two meet. You cannot fight it.”
My chest feels fucking weird. Have I thought Elysande is the most beautiful fucking creature I’ve ever seen, despite her being an elf, and despite hating her when I first met her? Yes. Have I also begun to notice that she’s different from what I’d expect of the princess of Ellyar, in every fucking way? Also… yes.
“So what are you saying? We’re fated to be together? Soul mates?”
“No. I don’t believe in such things. I’m simply saying I’ve watched countless outcomes play out, and in nearly every one, you can’t stay away from each other. You’re doomed to love one another. It’s tragic really, but I can’t resist a catastrophic love story.”
Now I think he’s full of shit. Me dying for the cause? Fine. I always expected that. But me falling for the princess of Ellyar in every future? I don’t think so. I narrow my eyes at him. “What if you’re manipulating me. Telling me lies to fit the outcome you want?”
He shrugs. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Well, it seems it was unnecessary to tell me not to fight it, when you apparently already know I won’t.”
“I do what I do for many reasons. Sometimes, I’m just a hopeless romantic. My history will tell you as much. I’m not saying that’s a good trait to have. Oftentimes, love becomes our ruin.”
“Which one is it?”
“What?”
“You said you love a tragic love story, yet you’re also a hopeless romantic.”
“Same thing.”
“Is it?”
“I think so.”
What the fuck am I doing, arguing with this witch? “Great,” I say dryly.
“You don’t believe me.”
“I’m undecided, but I’m leaning toward no. Mostly because now that I know my fate, I would never allow her to love me. I wouldn’t do that to her.”
The witch gives me a sad smile that’s accompanied by pity in his creepy eyes, and I want to gouge them out. “I’m done here.”
