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I don’t have the strength to lift my head to assess what happened to the rest of the battle, if we lost or won. Royad and Clio are alive, and there is no sound of combat, no whining and crying and grunting of the wounded.
“Fled when the curse broke. The whole battle dispersed when he bolted.” It takes a moment for Royad’s words to register, but as they do, I realize it’s not his feathers I’ve been sobbing into but the soft length of his brown hair. I blink against his chest and find nothing but smooth, tan skin stretching the expanse of his shoulders, and the arm that’s wrapped around me—it’s a real arm. No feathers, no elongated limbs like with Ephegos’s seared-off feathers.
The shock numbs the pain clutching my heart for a moment as I lean away to take him in?—
Royad has eyes as blue as the ocean, and his features are both pained and relieved as he studies me with a weariness that reminds me of an older brother examining his sister. His arms slide off my shoulders as he holds them out to his sides for me to take a closer look. But all I can do is stare at his eyes. The all-black is gone, clear white surrounding his irises before thick, dark lashes shutter in a blink.
“You look?—”
“Different,” Royad supplies.
“Human,” I correct. Except for the ears—they are still clearly fairy ears, but apart from that and his unearthly beauty, he looks human. No bird trait is left, not a single feather on his skin.
“The curse is broken, Ayna.” Royad’s arms fold back around me as he crushes me against his chest once more. “You broke it.”
Over his shoulder, I glimpse the entrance hall behind us, and what few Crows are still standing are all turning over their hands and arms, staring at the smooth skin and lack of claws with wonder.
“How?” I try not to think or feel as I wait for Royad to confirm what I already know happened.
“You fell in love with him, too.”
There is no stopping the onslaught of agony as it hits me how deep my failure truly was. I didn’t just fail to save his life; I failed to realize that there is only one power strong enough to end all curses.
Love.
I’d known I was falling for him, had pushed the feelings away like they were a curse of their own for fear I might break if I allowed myself to love him and then lost him. And my selfish fear cost me my one chance at happiness.
Fresh sobs rake through me as I turn around out of Royad’s embrace to find Clio’s hands on Myron’s chest, right over the wound that has long stopped bleeding—when his heart stopped beating.
Sparks of magic pour from her fingers, and even though I know on instinct she’s trying to heal him, his chest doesn’t rise in a life-giving breath. He’s dead.
But Guardians, does it hurt to see him like this. Like a dream taunting me with a future I might have had, had I been strong enough to admit my feelings.
The feathers have receded from his arms, exposing smooth, pale skin over hard cords of muscle. His shoulders are broad in a way that makes me want to curl into them just to remember how well I fit, and his face?—
His face is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. All hardness and traces of anguish have been smoothed away by death. His lips are still rosy like he might wake from a deep slumber any moment and open his eyes.
Something inside me tells me to try to lift his lids to spy what his eyes are like now that the all-black of the curse has been erased, but Clio shakes her head as I reach for his face.
“We need to leave, Ayna.” She has lifted her hands from his chest and is once more reaching for me. This time, I allow her to take my hand and lead it away from the male who looks more beautiful in death than anyone should have the right to.
“I can’t leave him.” I don’t bother asking her where I’d go or why if all that’s tethering me to this world is right in front of me. Because, by sacrificing himself to give me a chance at living, Myron has cut that tether, and all I can feel is the pain of where he ripped out my heart and took it with him behind Eroth’s Veil.
“He’d want it that way.” It’s Royad who places his warm hand on my shoulder. “He’d want you to be safe, and I can’t provide safety when the Flames could return any moment.”
“I thought they fled.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own as my gaze remains on Myron’s perfect form, on the arms I wished would wrap around me one last time. And there is nothing but emptiness.
“They did. After they killed as many Crows as we killed Flames. There was only a small group left, but if they choose to return, they might bring reinforcements,” Clio responds, slowly guiding me to my feet as she steps around Myron’s body.
I refuse to leave him. I can’t. Not yet. “Just a moment.” It’s all I need. One more moment of his lingering warmth. One last look at him.
Sobs are still shaking me, and what was left of my magic has dissipated, as has the water the lake spilled over us. Only a trickle remains around the edges of Myron’s form when I fall back to my knees and press my lips to his.
“I love you,” I whisper. But my words get swept away by the sound of an explosion filling my ears, and a sharp pain stings my head before darkness overtakes me. As the room fades from my vision, I’m ready to embrace Eroth’s Veil should he offer his hand to pull me through. I’m ready to follow Myron wherever he goes.
Only, when I wake up, I’m not in a place where pain no longer exists or where I might be reunited with all the people I’ve failed so I could beg their forgiveness. I’m in a plush room of cream and russet ornamentations and lily-scented warmth. Soft blankets embrace me instead of Myron’s strong, feathered wings, and where I once had a heart, a throbbing lump of remorse and agony lives with a vengeance that brings fresh tears to my eyes.
“It’s all right, little bride,” a voice sounds from the corner of the room, and my heart seizes.
