But I didn’t care.
There was nothing that could pull me from this moment with her.
It was there, on the floor of my destroyed office, that I knew she was mine. That I would do whatever it took to keep this woman safe. That her care and happiness was the most important thing in my life—more important than despotic god-possessed best friends, more important than the belief system I hid behind, and certainly more important than any promise of power.
The pounding of my heart was erratic, the organ desperately trying to push from my chest to get to the woman pressed against me. I panted, rapidly trying to fill my lungs, but felt like I was breathing through a muddy cloth.
Faylinn pulled away, concern lit in her wet eyes. She said something, but I couldn’t hear over the ringing in my ears.
Was I dying?
“Faylinn.” I took a last, deep, shuddering breath before my arms sagged and blackness took me.
Chapter 47
Rohak
“Do you want to talk about it?” Faylinn’s soft voice broke me from my staring contest with the black wall. The glass was no longer strewn across the floor; Faylinn had swept and discarded the remnants while I was incapacitated. The blood splatters were gone, wiped away like the remnants beneath my nose. It was like my outburst had never happened at all.
But I knew differently. And so did Faylinn.
That release of anger, my near fuckup, cost me more than either of us was willing to admit out loud. Reaching for my Destruction Magic like that, letting it nearly consume me, threw me into the second stage of Mage Sickness. Even now, I could feel the headache pounding behind my eyes, had to fight the near-constant desire to lie down and sleep. After my little fainting spell, I was afraid that if I gave in to the need, I wouldn’t wake up.
I’d be like Ben and either waste away to nothing, finally consumed by the sickness, or force Faylinn to Life Bond me to some unsuspecting Vessel.
All of my previous romantic notions of refusing a Vessel were completely negated by this new development. Faylinn couldn’t be my Bonded—not only was she not a Destruction Vessel, but she had no magic at all.
To save myself, I had to sacrifice my deepening affection for the woman who sat across from me, her eyes intense and worried. She picked at the white bandage that crisscrossed over her fingers and around her hand, stopping just past her wrist. I winced slightly at the motion, the guilt of my actions threatening to consume me whole.
I did that. In my rage, my Destruction Magic had wound around her fingers and hand, caressing enough to eat away at the first layer of skin, leaving blisters and open wounds in its wake.
“Stop,” she said, her eyes suddenly hard and pleading. I pulled my gaze away from the bandage to look at her, willing her to see the remorse in my eyes. “Stop blaming yourself. I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t fine. She was hurt and nearly dead, again, because of me.
“You lost control. It’s not you, it’s the sickness,” she reiterated sternly with a slight shake of her head.
I pushed my sweaty hair back with a shaky hand, desperately clutching at the strands at the back of my head, willing to feel some inkling of the pain I caused Faylinn.
There was no amount of time that would pass that would make me feel less remorseful for my actions against her.
Just one of the litany of reasons for her to hate me.
And yet, here she sat in the armchair across from me. She’d draped the blanket over my lap, tucking it tightly into my sides while I slept. How she pulled me from the ground to the chair was a question for another time, but I was grateful she’d exerted herself to make me comfortable.
“Tell me of the library,” I rasped, needing a distraction from my spiraling thoughts.
Faylinn sighed, sitting back in her chair and tucking her bare feet under her body. She propped her head on one hand, errant curls escaping her bun to cascade around her face with the motion, before regarding me with an indecipherable look. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and I realized she was trying to puzzle me out.
“Fine,” she finally said, and I relaxed minutely, hoping she wouldn’t force me to discuss why I had devolved so rapidly. “Under one condition.”
No such luck.
“You tell me what happened with Lord d’Refan.”
I blew out a breath, placing my shaky hand back in my lap.
“Deal,” I said, even though the words were like knives in my throat. Faylinn already didn’t trust Alois and, after I explained what happened, I knew there would be no redeeming him in her eyes. She was justified in her wariness; I’d give her that.
