I have been doing something wrong all along. From the first time I saw Barbi, I have been doing everything wrong.
I tighten my hold on her neck. She wheezes, her eyes widening in panic.
A stabbing pain erupts in my heart.
“Goodbye, Barbi,” I whisper as I materialize the red ruby ring and place it around her neck, adding a protective layer to it so it cannot fall off. Her lips tremble and I cannot help myself as I lean forward and brush my mouth against hers.
Sweet. So damn sweet.
Why did you have to be so sweet?
Why did you have to make me waver?
Why did you have to make my heart beat to this odd, beautiful song that still echoes in my being?
But there is also another question that I hardly dare to think about.
Will this song ever end?
“I will remember you fondly for your sacrifice,” I murmur, squeezing my eyes shut and readying myself for the inevitable.
She has to die for Moe to live.
She has to…die.
I push her off me.
The taste of her kiss burns on my lips. Her screams echo in the perpetual night.
I stare at her falling body, the seconds turning into an infinity. A sharp pain erupts in my chest. Endless scenes of treachery flash before my eyes. For the first time in my long and weary existence, regret fills me to the brim.
The moment stretches into an eternity as I watch her fall, the whisper of a curse on her lips—a curse I brought upon myself.
“I hate you, Nykander v’Kyro!”
A crippling pain grips me, a tight vise that surrounds my heart and squeezes it dry.
My pulse echoes in my ears, but it’s not enough to drown out the sweet cadence of her voice now filled with heartbreak.
I open my eyes just in time to see her fall, getting closer and closer to the red surface of the water—closer and closer to being lost to me forever.
But I will have Moe back, will I not?
Yet even that is not a certainty. If there’s any chance that this spell will fail, then I will lose both of them—or so I tell myself.
And once more, I find that I’m too much of a selfish asshole to let that happen.
My body is moving before my mind can catch up to my intention.
I plunge head down, my arm stretched out to reach for her.
Everything happens in the split of a second.
She’s falling. I am falling too.
I strain to catch her before she makes contact with the dangerous water, but just as my fingers brush against hers, she hits the surface of the lake. Red droplets of water splash over to me, and as I grab her hand to pull her out, I find myself getting pulled down instead.
No matter how much energy I use to propel us up, the lake is intent in swallowing us.
