“Well,Ivalue your life.” Bel reached for him, but he yanked his arm away.
“You valueyourlife,” he said.
“I’m sorry this hurt you, Sean, but it was the only way to end the hostility between you.”
“How can you think that’s the most important thing?You put his soul inside me.”
Her gaze dropped to the ground. “You’re stillyou. The binding doesn’t change you.”
Where was this calm coming from? His insides were in stark danger of freezing to death, but the ice kept his anger in check, turned it into a honed blade made to slice deep.
He stepped closer, crowding into her space. “If it doesn’t change anything, then why do it?”
Isobel retreated.
Another step erased the space she so clearly wanted. His voice softened, emphasizing the sharp edge—a velvet-lined dagger. “What if he dies, Bel? What if he turns into Galadaine? Did you stop to consider what David and I could accomplish with his magic, my reputation, and Galadaine’s ideals?”
A well of darkness opened in her eyes before she shook it off. “You would never do that.”
Sean turned and swore. “You are so selfish.”
“Selfish?” Her tone was incredulous. She followed him as he marched away. “I did this for you.”
He whirled on her and pointed a finger in her face. “No, you did this foryou. You did this out of fear. You did this because you think if you can make David a little less like Galadaine, he won’t be such a threat to you.You stole my soul and gave it to my worst enemy.”
“Sean.” She pulled on his elbow so he faced her. “He scares me, he does. I won’t deny that. But it isn’t reallyhimthat scares me. It’s just the potential—what he represents—that scares me. That isn’t why I did this. I hate what’s written about us. I hate what I’ve been fated to be. But even though I’ve hated it forever, I still couldn’t help but fall in love with you. I want you protected from the threat David’s blood poses. I don’t want you to suffer what Lhynion suffered. I love you, and I want you kept safe.”
She’d never said those words to him. He’d assumed, even expected it, but hearing the words in her voice affected him more than he’d thought it would.
This wasn’t a memory of Meléan whispering into Lhynion’s ear. This was Isobel Faywood, standing before him, declaring her love.
She loved him because of magic. She hated it but loved him anyway.
And in that moment…Sean couldn’t say it back. Couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t even remember the giddy tenderness that had developed in his heart where he kept her.
He searched inside and found the love tucked between resentment and rancor. His magically induced feelings turned sour and obtunded—like a veneer had been stripped away, exposing the coarse, dirty material beneath.
This wasn’t love.
This was magic.
And itsucked.
An instant later, all the dirt and grime wiped clean. The love shone golden once more, and Sean was left blinking and cold.
What the?—
Bel dropped his elbow. “Sean? Did you hear me?”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “You—you act like it’s a gift. This is a gift I didn’t want. It isn’t a gift at all. This is a burden.”
“Once the shock has worn off?—”
“No.” The word burst from him. “Don’t tell me I’ll get used to it. I don’t want to get used to this. This wasn’t your decision to make. You stole something from me, and I’ll never get it back. I’ll never be the same.”
Isobel recoiled, and the dewy shine in her eyes expanded to tears. Clouds covered the sun. He glanced at the darkening sky, and a single drop of rain landed on his cheek. Her tears spilled, and so did the sky, triggering some switch in his head.
The ice melted, dousing all Sean’s anger into a useless puddle. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”
