Not even in death.
A shallow, rattling noise drew a collective gasp from the crowd huddled behind him.
It was minute, the weakest flicker of air.
Njáll hissed, wrenching his head back to gaze at her. Almost imperceptibly, her chest rose, falling slowly afterward.
A ragged plea tore from his throat until it shredded the raw skin there. Tears streamed down his face, scorching a trail over his cheeks before pooling in the dirt. It smeared with the dust and dried blood on his face, stinging the small cuts there.
A whistle hissed through his clenched jaw, burying the pain down.
Gently, he slid an arm under Elara’s slender shoulders, propping her against him. His cheek pressed to hers, trying to pour the heat of him into her clammy skin.
Murmurs continued to hum in the shadows, but no one bothered them.
Njáll leaned back enough to see her ashen, drawn face. He brushed the hair caked with mud back, whispering Norse praises and promises into the stale air.
Then her eyes blinked open.
What looked back at him stole all words from his mouth, leaving him still.
Gone were the familiar glittering jade eyes that blazed with the challenge which he admired. Luminous liquid gold eyes shone under thick lashes.
They were unnaturally still, the color reminiscent of that of the panther’s.
Elara stared through him, pliant in his arms, scanning the scattered remains of the village.
What little warmth remained in her limbs slowly dissolved, leaving her as icy as death itself. Her lashes fluttered, staying closed for longer and longer with each passing second as if the act of keeping her eyes open physically pained her.
Maybe it did.
For the first in a long time, Njáll let himself feel.
Feel everything, as catastrophic as it was.
The small flame of hope in his chest extinguished as quickly as it came.
Hot tears poured from him, his body shaking with violent tremors. Snot mixed with the tears and he struggled to breath, clinging to her weak form.
He didn’t care who saw.
“Elara,” he whispered, wanting her name to linger on his tongue. He sniffed, his voice thick with tears. “Little flame. You cannot go. You cannot leave me. For you will take my heart with you. I cannot bear it.”
Lips brushed her temple, closing his eyes for a long pause.
She didn’t respond.
Instead, a hacking cough shook her petite body and she sputtered, bringing a mix of foam and dark liquid to her lips.
Hopelessness gnawed at his heart, withering it with each passing second.
This was the one thing he couldn’t save her from.
This was the end.
Finite and permanent.
Swallowing, Njáll sought the rough leather hilt tucked in his boot.
