Page 157 of Black Sea

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mornon approaching with the slow, deliberate movements of a panther. He stood beside me, towering over me in all his dark majesty.

“Do you really think you can redeem me with love?” he mocked me.

I struggled to hoist myself onto the bench, as if an unseen force was pressing me down. I clenched the Crystal in my fist, blood bubbling in my throat and spilling from the corners of my mouth. Mornon slowly rolled his wrist, and against my will, my face lifted toward him.

“Or even beat me just because your granny is with you now?” he continued, almost with pity.

I wanted to lash out at him with all my pain, but it felt like I was suffocating in my own blood as his darkness tore me apart from within.

Mornon smeared the viscous liquid over my lower lip, gazing at it for what felt like a century. Then, abruptly, he seized my chin, digging his fingers into my cheeks so forcefully that I spat out a crimson spurt that stained his sleeve.

“Tomorrow I will invade your house and kill your family before your eyes,” he growled, making me realize he was extremely annoyed that he had stopped when I’d begged him not to slaughter my father and Araton. “Then I will drag you away with me and torture you in ways I can’t even describe to you.” He drew a breath vibrating with anticipation. “Until you give me this damn Crystal.”

No, he wouldn’t do any of that.

For it would be me killing him tomorrow.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I gazed upon that being, so treacherous and merciless. So cold and calculating. So hungry for power and destruction and depravity.

So far from the person I’d fallen for.

“Who are you?” I whispered, my voice thick with anger and pain.

He let go of my chin and wiped away my tears with the back of his fingers, his expression darker than ever as he ordered the darkness within me to subside. “I’m your mate.”

And my jailor.

He would remain so for all eternity if I failed.

A sense of complete and unrelenting destruction overwhelmed me, and I pulled away from Mornon’s hand in disgust. “Give me Amlach back,” I murmured in a broken voice.

He sighed quietly, his arm dropping to his side. “Amlach was never real, Elf.”

The black fire started to rise around his boots, but before he could turn and disappear into it, I impulsively grabbed his hand.

Just like I had done in the clearing.

Again.

Always.

Because I couldn’t let him go.

I knew I should. I should be strong, as hard as granite. I should be a warrior. But I couldn’t be one. Not right now.

Now, I was utterly and irreparably devastated.

Whatever happened the following day, I would lose.

My love, my heart, my soul, my body.

I would stop existing, either dying with my half or canceling myself out to prevent him from using me.

So, I embraced my weakness and chose to fool myself into thinking I could have a different ending. Into pretending it was once again the night when Amlach and I had given ourselves to each other.

“Come back to being him,” I whispered, “and spend the night with me.” I raised my eyes to him. “One last time.”

We would face each other tomorrow.