Cedric spun, helpless to do anything but watch as the dagger soared into Elyria’s outstretched hand, her chest rising and falling with labored breath. She gripped the hilt tightly, her hand trembling, eyes bright with tears. “You can’t,” she said. “I won’t let you.”
“It has to be me,” Cedric said again, this time softer, his voice imploring. He took a step closer to the dagger—to her. “I have to be the one to die for the crown, because you have to be the one to wield it. We agreed. You’ll use the power of the crown to seal the Chasms, and then you’ll destroy it.”
“I don’t care! I don’t care about the Chasms! Let someone else fix it, let someone else find a way. It’s not worth your life, Cedric. You deserve”—her voice cracked—“to live. You’ve already given everything to this place!”
“But it’s worth yours?” A surge of anger fed the flame in his chest. How dare she think she wasn’t the important one here, the worthy one. He closed the distance between them, and she drew the dagger behind her back, but he didn’t reach for it. Instead, he took her free hand in his—gently, tenderly, that burning rage calming the instant he closed his fingers around hers.
He laid her palm against his heart. “Do you think I’d letyoudie for this? For me? Do you think I could live with that?”
“You will learn to—you willhaveto.” Her voice shook, but she didn’t pull away. “I couldn’t save him, but I can still save you.”
“Don’t you understand?” His voice was desperate, pleading. “There’s only one reason I survived this long already. I should have died five times over in here, and I know, deep in my bones—in my soul—that this, right here, is why. I am only alive because of you. Let me be the reason you get out, save Kit, save everyone.”
“No fucking way.”
“Elyria—”
“I said, no, damnit! I didn’t save your life over and over again just for you to end it now.” Now she did try to pull away, to yank her handsback, to put space between them. He only drew her closer. “You don’t get to make this choice.”
“There is no other choice to be made,” he said. “What’s the alternative? We waste away in here forever? Kit dies, Thraigg dies, Nox dies, Zephyr dies? Or worse yet, what happened to Evander happens to you? I’d rather die than see that happen anyway.”
He steeled himself. “I think I’ve always known that my story was meant to end like this.” Sorrow leaked out with every word, with each limited beat of his heart. “And if it means saving you, if it means ensuring the crown doesn’t fall into the wrong hands, then it’s all worth it.Youare worth it.”
She shook her head, her hair loose and wild after their struggle. Her hand tightened around his. “I’ve lived enough for two lifetimes already. I accepted my fate the second I decided to follow Kit through the Gate. But you—you deserve anafter.”
“Afterwas always just a dream for me. It doesn’t have to be for you.”
They stood there, frozen, the weight of this impossible choice pushing on their shoulders.
“This is what I’m meant for,” Cedric said. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Elyria let out a small, broken sound, and Cedric knew he had won. He wondered if she could hear the way it made his heart crack.
“You’re wrong,” she whispered. “None of this makes sense without you.”
The words echoed through his blood like the worst kind of prayer. If they kept this up, he would lose his resolve. He would falter. They would fail.
Just one more look, he thought as he stared into her blazing green eyes, at the fire burning there, wholly different from the one kindling in his chest.He took in the way the aurora lit up her hair, the swaying colors illuminating each strand, making them shine—purple and silver and green and gold.
He looked at her and he saw her.Her. Not the warrior, not the Revenant. Not the friend or the ally or the sister or the grieving ex-lover. Just her. And he knew that everything he’d thought, everything he’d been taught, the weight he’d carried since he was a child wasn’t real,wasn’t true.
This. This was real.
Lord Church had been so wrong about her. About all of them. And if he was wrong about this, what else was he wrong about?
Cedric’s fingers trailed along the end of Elyria’s disheveled braid, pinching strands of periwinkle between his knuckle and the pad of his thumb. Her almond scent filled his nose, and it felt like a punch straight to the gut. He knew from the first moment he saw her, from the instant that sugar-and-poison scent filtered through his senses, that she would be the death of him.
It just wasn’t anything close to the way he imagined.
Just one look, he’d told himself. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. But if not now, when?
So, without letting himself second-guess or lose his nerve or think about it for even one second longer, Cedric leaned forward and crushed his lips to hers.
50
FALLING
ELYRIA
