I unfurl my wings. My fangs descend, no doubt glinting in the candlelight.
“Gargoyles,” she whispers, and I nod.
“End that, and what’s left but—”
“Death.” Tears spill down her cheeks, warm and wet on my thumbs. “You said death would be better. That’s what you meant. That’s what youwant. Death.”
“It’s not what I want, little mortal. It’s merely the better of two terrible outcomes.”
“Then why are you trying to protect me?” She pulls out of my embrace and rises from the bed, backing up against the wall like my very presence is causing her physical pain. It fills her eyes, drowning out her fire. Drowning out the love that shone there only moments ago. In a broken voice, she says, “Why do you keep saving me for a world where you don’t exist?”
I rise to meet her, grabbing her shoulders, refusing to let her succumb to this. To become another victim, however indirectly, of Verrick of Wintermoon. “I’m saving you for a world whereyouexist. Where you’re free to become the woman you were meant to be. To live the life that was nearly stolen from you time and again. I’m saving you for a world where other people—humans and supernaturals alike—can experience the blessing of having you as a friend, as a partner, as a witch. I’m saving you because when all of us are gone from this world, I want to know that we left it a better place—a place with you in it. Healthy, happy, and alive to feel the sun on your face.”
She shakes her head, shoving me away. “No, Draegan. You’re pissed at me because I brought them happiness? Goddess, what do you think you all brought me? For the first time in my life, I have people who care about me. People who have my back. True friends and confidants who aren’t using me in some sick power game. Lovers who make me feel things I didn’t even know I could feel. Could want. Men—gargoylesI’ve come to care for and trust and rely on. And you’re telling me it’s all a lie?”
“Not a lie, no.” I try to smile, but the very act pains me as much as all the things I’ve had to tell her tonight. “Just… just a truth with an expiration date.”
“Fuck off.” She swipes at her tears, her cheeks dark and splotchy, her eyes bright. Her fire is back, and now her skin is glowing, too—that ethereal violet light, mesmerizing and beautiful. “Therehasto be a way. Give up on yourself if you want, butI’mnot giving up on you.”
All I want to do is touch her again. Feel that light on my skin. Memorize the curve of her jaw with my fingertips, the soft slope of her neck, the delicate jut of her collarbone…
I sigh. “You know better than most the inherent danger that comes from believing in miracles.”
“You bet your ass I do. Yet I believe in them anyway, because a flock of birds once saved me from death in an abandoned subway station, and one night, when I thought my life was finally over for good, I made a wish at the top of a bell tower and a statue turned into a man before my eyes, and that man turned into a gargoyle, and that gargoyle not only saved my life, but made me feel like I could actually be happy again.”
“Denial isn’t a solution,” I snap. Anger and regret and heartbreak wrestle for dominance inside me, the words spilling unbidden. “The others may wish to lose themselves in the land of make-believe with you, but that will not save them any more than a miracle spell that may not even exist. So no, I willnotbe joining you for more family dinners, or for a romp before the fireplace. I will not be feeding you sliced apples at midnight, or carving you pretty things out of ugly bones, or painting your lovely toes the color of the sunset, or gazing into those eyes or caressing your flawless skin or kissing that ripe, red mouth because even beingnearyou for more than a moment flays my fucking heart for all the things I want but canneverhave. I don’t know how else to say it, Westlyn. But this… Whatever happened between us, whatever you’re feeling… It can’t go on.”
Tears spill from her eyes, but she shakes her head and steps toward me, still refusing to listen. Refusing to budge.
“You trusted me enough to share this with me...” She takes my hands, gently placing the heart-shaped stone in my palm, her fingers small and delicate against my massive claws. “So trust in this, too. Wewillfind a way to break the curse—whatever it takes.”
I want to nod. I want to accept her courage, her conviction. I try like hell to hold on to it, to hold her gaze, but all I can see now, all I can hear, all I canfeelis Verrick of Wintermoon’s boot on the back of my neck, my face half in the mud as he ordered his men to kill the people I once held dear…
“You deserved to know about the curse,” I say softly. “About our history. But as for a promise of a future… I can’t, Westlyn. I’m so sorry, love. But I just can’t.”
And with that, I turn my back on her and walk away, closing the door behind me.
I tell myself it’s for the best. That she’s better off. That whatever connection I feel to her is too fleeting to further acknowledge and too complicated to even consider.
And itisfor the best. I know it, as surely as I’ve ever known anything.
So why the fuck is there a hole in my chest the size of the damn Chrysler Building?
Chapter Twenty-Two
DRAEGAN
“Breaking our girl’s heart twice in one night?” Jude steps out of the shadows like a ghost, damn near scaring the shit out of me. “Might be a new record.”
Fuck. I have no idea how long he’s been out here. How much he heard.
But at this particular moment, I can’t be bothered to care.
Ignoring him, I head for my suite, eager to lock myself away until it’s time to retire on the roof and put this whole fucking night behind me.
But of course he won’t let it go. The bastard follows me right into my room.
“FuckingJude.” I whirl on him. “What now? Have you run out of skulls to bludgeon? Would you like mine? Be my fucking guest—just don’t spill any blood on my carpet.”
