Page 191 of The Dragon and the Dove

Too late to undo what she had done.

Too late to outrun the cost.

Too late.

Too late.

Too late.

Chapter 59 Ransom

Seraphine wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be dead. If she had passed beyond this world, then surely Ransom’s heart would have stopped beating too.

Following the thread in his chest, he waded through blood and dust and shattered rock, while his friends looked on in mournful silence.

No.

No.

Anouk was crying. Tobias and Paola were huddled over Theo Versini, who looked about as bad as Ransom felt. Val stood at the edge of the arch with Caruso and Nadia, her eyes filled with the kind of dread that told him the Saint of Truth knew something he refused to admit.

Fuck truth.

Fuck the saints.

And fuck you, Oriel.

He ploughed through the rubble, shouting her name. He found her body on the rocks, a rose petal plucked and discarded at the gates of the city. Not far from her, Andreas Mondragon Rayere lay dead.

Ransom came to his knees with his heart in his hands, like a beggar praying to the saints.

‘Seraphine.’ He brushed the blood-soaked hair from her face, traced the curve of her cheek. ‘Seraphine, please.’

Her skin was ice cold.

He trailed his finger down the column of her neck, finding her fading pulse.

No.

No.

‘Please.’ He whispered the word.

He tipped his head back to the heavens and roared it.

Was Oriel listening? Was she watching his heart break in two? Is this how she had always envisioned the grand sacrifice of her Saint-maker? Seraphine Marchant wrung out and tossed aside like a dishrag at the gates of the city.

Please don’t take her from me.

Too late, said the old voice. Let it be.

‘No,’ he growled. ‘No.’

He pulled her onto his lap, the limp collar of her shirt fluttering to reveal a glimpse of black beneath. Gently, so very gently, he traced the black vine along her sternum, and followed it to its end, right above her heart.

The thorn was bigger than all the others. A starburst of black ink that told him it was done. Her magic was spent. And the cost was her life. Her future.

His fucking heart.