Page 169 of Fallen Nocturne

She begins chanting desperately. The words spill from her in a frantic rush, ancient syllables scraping against the air. Pale light gathers between her lips.

I did want to be human once. There was a time when I would have done anything to regain my mortality. That was before Rhianelle. Before I had someone who made eternity worth enduring.

Lilith’s eyes widen as the hands drag her lower. “Please, Arescaine. Please, you bastard!”

I don’t move. I only watch as the hands pull her deeper.

Finally, desperately, she looks at Rhianelle.

“Please,” she whispers, and for the first time, she sounds small. “Please, have mercy. I know I hurt you, I know I—but please. Please don’t let them take me. Please.”

And my kind and merciful wife walks toward the gate.

My heart stops.

Rhianelle picks up a sword sheath from the ground. She approaches the edge and reaches out.

Gods, no.

I know Rhianelle has a soft heart. Is she going to offer the sheath to Lilith to pull herself up with?

No, she can’t.

Lilith is a fucking trickster. She will drag Rhianelle in and pull her down out of pure spite.

I move toward her, ready to pull her back and stop her from making a mistake that will cost her everything.

But I’m too slow. Rhianelle reaches the edge of the gate, the sheath extended—

Cedwyn comes out of nowhere and dives into the gate. He’s bloodied, beaten from his fight with Wolf and Garrett. But he’s grinning. The ancient bastard who’s been nothing but trouble grabs on to Lilith.

His arms lock around her shadow form before she can escape.

Rhianelle lunges toward the edge. “Stop! Let go before they take you too, Cedwyn!”

Cedwyn doesn’t answer her. He’s busy. Lilith is clawing at his hands, his arms, trying to peel his fingers off one by one. He holds on.

“You little shit!” she shrieks. “Let me go!”

Lilith twists violently in his grasp, her darkness lashing against him, but Cedwyn only holds tighter.

A flash of silver appears within her shadowed hand. The witch has a dagger. When she realizes Cedwyn will not release her, she stops fighting him long enough to hurl it at Rhianelle’s throat.

I step in front of it.

The blade punches into my chest and buries itself to the hilt.

Lilith laughs hysterically. The sound is desperate and broken, stripped of everything except spite.

“I have you now,” she gasps.

Lilith thrashes against Cedwyn as the hands drag them both deeper, staring at the dagger in my chest as though she has won. She has forgotten that I am Strigon. A blade cannot kill me.

“Arescaine—” Rhianelle’s voice comes from behind me, frightened.

“I’m fine,” I say.

Her eyes remain fixed on the dagger for one terrified heartbeat before Cedwyn’s struggle draws her attention back to the gate. She thrusts the sheath toward him. “Grab on to this. Hurry.”