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I pull away. “Wary won’t end your curse. If you want a normal life—and death—you have to let my father help. One of my ancestors hurt you, and I’m trying to give you what you want, but I can’t if you won’t help yourself.”
Stubborn, difficult man. I storm toward the door.
As I reach for the knob, Marrok hovers behind me, one palm slamming the portal shut, trapping me inside. The other curls around my waist. His agitated breath fans across my neck. “Shh. ’Tis right you are. Let us go together.” He kisses my crown. “And you will be very careful.”
As I suck in a ragged breath, I realize I’m crying. I swipe at the hot tears drizzling down my cheeks. Marrok holds me close, drawing me into his heat and comfort. So perfect, his soft words and touches. So insidious.
When he holds me like this, I’m flooded with emotion. My love for him, yes, but more. Sadness. Dread.
Opening this book will be the beginning of our end. If the curse doesn’t kill him, he’ll do the job himself. And after a millennium and a half, he deserves peace.
But I’ll miss him more than I have the words to express.
I turn and throw my arms around Marrok, hugging him so tightly, my arms ache.
I love you. It’s on the tip of my tongue. But I swallow it and hold on as if the world will end if I let him go.
But that’s selfish, so I pull back. Marrok isn’t having it. He winds his strong arms around me and hauls me close again.
“All will be well. I will do everything in my power to make it so. No more tears, love.”
I pull away and dry my face, wishing he wouldn’t call me that if he doesn’t mean it. “Let’s go.”
He tosses on his clothes, grabs the diary from its hiding place, then turns to me. “What is amiss?”
“Nothing. Why should anything be wrong?” I misdirect, looking deep into his eyes and memorizing the sight of him.
“Tell me what you fear?”
Being without you. “Opening the diary is a big step.”
“Indeed.” He presses his lips to mine. A reassurance?
It feels like goodbye.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Marrok
After dressing, I follow Olivia out of our borrowed bedroom, guiding her with a hand at the small of her back. I want to say something. She seems distraught. Because she may lose her energy source? Or does some other concern plague her?
Perhaps, like me, she likes not how this situation is unfolding. Gray’s appearance is sudden, the time strange, and his plan rushed, not to mention the fantastical story of his “bravery” that resulted in precisely what we need.
On the other hand, ’tis possible that my accursed immortality will end tonight. But I am wary that ’tis far more likely to be Gray’s ploy to get his hands on the book.
Either way, I refuse to face him unarmed.
I am not privy to the feats a wizard of his power and bloodline can perform. Though I have learned much in these few days, I have merely scratched the surface of magickind’s abilities.
Bram, however, is a bloody expert.
“Wait here,” I say at the top of the stairs.
At Olivia’s nod, I trek down the long hall. In shadow, I turn to look at her, catching her unguarded expression. Sadness. Grief. Worry.
Energy aside, would she mourn me if I were gone from her life? I know not. But as I’ve concealed my feelings because I know so little of her heart, I wonder… Has she done the same?
Heaven help me, I am a fool, falling for the descendant of the very woman who sentenced me to a horrific fate. And yet…Olivia’s innocence and pluck, her belief in everyone’s innate goodness, is like inhaling a fresh breath for the first time in centuries.
