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Prologue
LAST WORDS
His cries torethrough her soul. “You made a vow. By the gods, don’t do this. You swore to me.”
Tears burned behind her eyes when she peered over her shoulder. There, on his knees, shoulders rising and dropping in desperation, those moonless night eyes locked on her with a touch of rage. A touch of longing. Silken spells bound him in place with their mists of gold. They kept him safe.
Doubtless he did not see it the same, and when he spoke again, the anguish in his voice shaved away a permanent piece from her heart.
“Don’t,” he pleaded. “Don’t do this.”
“Forgive me,” she said. With a wave of her fingers, she stitched a series of runes over the mists tethering him in place.
He no longer fought, no longer pleaded. He merely watched with a look of defeat as the spell wove into the temporary bindings, ensuring he’d be bound until . . . until after it was too late for him to interfere, for him to stop her.
Should he try, she knew her resolve would falter. She’d fall into his arms. She’d watch their world burn, and him with it.
It couldn’t happen. He . . . he deserved to live. He deserved everything.
Goddess, she loved him.
He challenged her. Aggravated her. No one sent her heart into a frenzy with such passion. No one lit her soul like a flame with the simplest of grins. He owned every piece of her.
Please, let me keep him. Let me remember him. Somehow. Please.
What a worthless prayer. She knew this was the end.
Then please . . . let him know he was loved. Let him find . . . peace.
“My heart is burned?—”
“No.” He shook his head. “Don’t say it.”
A tear fell onto her cheek. She tried again. “My heart is burned.”
A muscle flinched in his jaw. He closed his eyes, a glimmer of his own tears slid down his face. “Burned with your name.”
Her voice cracked. “My soul is owned.”
“Owned . . .” His voice came low, soft, broken. “Owned by you.”
“Through the brightest days.” She swiped the tear away.
“Through the darkest nights.” His shoulders slumped.
“Forever, I am yours.”
He lifted his head, those glassy eyes two knives to her chest. For a few breaths he simply stared at her, then whispered, “Forever, I am yours.”
By her side, she rolled her fingers in a wordless incantation, a spell she’d learned long ago. The heat of her magic slid from her pores until his eyes fluttered and he slumped back.
A sob broke from her chest.
There was no time, but she rushed to his side.
This was how she yearned to remember him, an imprint on her soul for whenever she greeted the world to come.
Her fingertips traced the sharp edges of his jaw. She touched his brows that were at ease and gentle, traced the black ink swirled around his fingers in runic symbols that signified he was a man who’d planned to make vows, planned to give his whole heart to another.
