Page 321 of Blade of the Nightking

"It wasn't like that!"

A wild laugh burst from him, broken and empty. "You watched me mourn my sister. I watched her die—because of you!"

The accusation lashed across my heart, despair clawing its way up my throat.

“I didn’t know about Dannis, I swear it! I didn’t know it was him—she touched me when—” I stumbled over the words. “Oh, please, Rìan, I know I should’ve gone to you, but I didn’t know what to do! I just wanted to protect...”

"Aedric?" he snapped, catching my meaning before I could say it. "You wanted to protect your murderous bastard of a mate? Is that it? Even after you knew Dannis—a child—had suffered at his hand?"

"He was safe!" I cried, tears blurring my vision. "Aedric protected him. He loved him. I'm certain of it!"

Rìan went utterly still.

"Loved him," he repeated, barely above a whisper.

The force of his rage slammed through our bond with such brutality I staggered beneath it.

"Rìan, please!" I sobbed. "Just let me explain! You don't understand, I⁠—"

"Don't understand?" He laughed again, the sound sharp enough to flay skin. "I understand perfectly."

"No..." My legs gave out beneath me. I hit the dirt hard enough to jar my teeth. "Rìan... please. I wanted to tell you. I didn't know how!"

He ripped the rope from around his waist. Hand over hand, he hauled it up with savage force. The burlap bundle rose from the darkness. He seized it the moment it cleared the opening, soaked red and dripping with our blood.

"Rìan, please!" I screamed.

But it was too late.

Tilting his head back, he twisted a corner of the sodden cloth into his mouth. Blood streamed over his tongue, spilled from the corners of his lips, and ran down his throat, soaking the front of his shirt. He drank.

And then he turned to me.

For a moment, I caught it through our bond—a yawning, unbearable grief. Then it vanished beneath a fresh surge of fury so immense it transformed his features into something almost unrecognizable.

He took a menacing step toward me.

"No..." I scrambled backward. “I won’t do it! I won’t!”

He was on me in an instant. His fingers fisted in my hair, pulling my head back before I could wrench away. I clamped my lips shut as he crushed the blood-soaked rag against my mouth. Warm blood splattered across my face, slicking the seam of my lips.

"Drink, Eidra!"

I refused even to breathe.

"Drink, damn you!"

His whole body shook with the ferocity of his rage, as hot as a wildfire.

I twisted and shoved against him, holding my breath, refusing to part my lips. My lungs burned. Black spots danced across my vision.

Then, in the frantic chaos, something stirred deep inside me.

A spark.

I seized it before it could disappear and hurled it toward Rìan. The pulse of my magic struck him squarely, throwing him backward. The rag flew from his grasp and hit the stones, trailing a long streak of crimson as it slid toward the mouth of the well⁠—

—and vanished over the edge.