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‘Yes.’ I forced a shrug. ‘So?’
‘So …’ His unfocused gesture seemed aimed roughly at his throat. Voice. Not magic. That choice I’d made in the torchlit night of the Cobalt Court, coming back to haunt me in such unexpected ways. ‘So are you very sure it’s worth that risk?’
‘It’s not a risk,’ I said softly.
He averted his eyes, rubbing a sleeve across his red-rimmed eyes. ‘Em …’
‘I just had to spend six hours with a mage who wasn’t you,’ I interrupted, voice wry. ‘It was a helpful reminder of how absolutely miserable most people are at reading my mind, and I think I’m going to need cooperation more than magic tomorrow. So I truly do believe I stand a better chance at reaching theMother with you than with anyone else – and even if I’m wrong and we don’t manage …’ I swallowed something thorny. ‘I’d still rather die in your arms than in anyone else’s.’
He was silent at that.
I turned a fraction, tucked myself into the warm hollow between his right arm and torso, and pulled my knees to my chest. His wing wrapped about me almost thoughtlessly, a tight velvet blanket against the cold of the night; his fingers settled on my hip, squeezing me closer against him.
Hours seemed to pass before he finally muttered, ‘Then I’ll come with you to the gates of hell itself if I need to.’
Some muscle near my heart loosened for the first time that evening.
Again, neither of us spoke for a while. Above us, the sky was clear and bright, uncountable swaths of stars shimmering like diamonds against black velvet. The forest stood its quiet watch around us. I felt the slow rise and fall of his chest, felt the steady beat of his heart where our bodies were pressed together, and tried my hardest not to think about how that same battered heart might go silent forever tomorrow, every single pulse rushing us closer and closer to that final destination of nothing at all.
‘Well.’ His quiet voice was light on the surface, seething with something far darker below. ‘It’s been a decent few months, hasn’t it?’
I managed a faint chuckle. ‘It certainly could have been worse.’
‘Much worse,’ he agreed, resting his chin heavily on the crown of my head. ‘Much, much worse.’
We were silent again.
Was it better, I wondered, to at least have found that one soul who made my heart sing before the bitter end came for me? Or was itworse, to die knowing what immortality might have been for me, knowing how much I would have had to stay alive for?
I bit my tongue.
When Creon spoke again, his voice was husky, low. ‘Em?’
‘Hmm?’ I didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to be reminded time was still moving as I breathed in his smell and listened to his heart ticking the minutes away. And at the same time, I wanted him to keep talking and talking, to revel in the triumph of his voice as long as I could … ‘What is it?’
‘If I were to die tomorrow …’ He paused for a moment to scoop me up from the moist, mossy stone and pull me gently into his lap, wings folding around me again as soon as he’d completed the manoeuvre. ‘If I were to die and you to survive … is there anything you’d regret not having said? Not having asked?’
My heart clenched with a vehemency that wouldn’t allow me to breathe for a second.
I shouldn’t have been imagining it, his still face in my hands, his hard, warm body gone cold and limp. I shouldn’t even have beencontemplatingit. But he’d asked it all the same, and gods,ifI were to lose him tomorrow …
I would curse myself forever, not answering the question.
So I cocked my head back against his shoulder, squinted up at him, and murmured, ‘Is that supposed to mean there’s somethingyouwould like to ask?’
His quiet laughter alone, tense as it was, was worth the risk. ‘Possibly?’
‘That’s a yes.’
A muffled snort. ‘Don’t be so bloody clever, cactus.’
‘You’ll have to forgive me.’ I wiggled around in his arms to face him, shivering as the cold air crept back beneath his wings. ‘Is it better if I tell you I might have something for you, too?’
He quirked up an eyebrow. ‘Might?’
‘Now who’s the clever one here?’ I muttered and rolled my eyes at him. ‘Tell me, then. What did you want to ask?’
‘You first.’ He didn’t look very hopeful about that suggestion.
