Page 8 of Blade of the Nightking

The horror of his words settled over me, suffocating, impossible to escape. No. This was impossible. I was hearing things.

Something inside my chest split open.

All of those deaths.

All the towns swallowed by plague.

All the people I had tried to save, over and over… My entire life, spent fighting the consequences of his betrayal.

Nausea churned violently in my stomach, rising up into my throat.

So many lives taken.

So much suffering.

All because of him.

“You have to forgive me before you go,” he whispered, thumb brushing urgently over my knuckles. “You have to forgive me. Please.”

Forgive…

He’d laid his sins like an offering at my feet, seconds before I died, as though his confession to me could absolve him. He was giving me the weight of his guilt to carry into the afterlife.

“El?”

He pushed up onto his elbows to look at me, searching my face. My heart cracked in my chest.

I lo—… I lo—… I…

“El,” he said hoarsely, the back of his fingers grazing my cheek. “Please. Forgive me.”

I opened my mouth.

What did it matter? I was dying. Whether I forgave him or not, death would take me anyway.

If forgiveness could ease his pain, shouldn’t I give it? Wasn’t that what love was supposed to look like?

His eyes—those blue eyes, hot as the core of a flame—burned into me. Beautiful.

Devastating.

They flicked to my lips as I cracked them open to speak.

“Water.”

He startled, then scrambled to his knees. “El, I can’t leave you,” he insisted, trying to steady his voice. “You… you might not be here when I get back.”

“Water,” I rasped again.

He shook his head, his face filled with sadness and misery.

I met his gaze one final time, and decided I’d held on long enough.

I closed my eyes and surrendered to the darkness.

It swept through my mind, cool and gentle, and its embrace felt good.

CHAPTER 3