Page 87 of A Fate In Moonstone

I grabbed the dagger and didn’t think. I pressed the tip into my chest and started dragging it through the flesh of my left shoulder.

Chapter Forty-Eight

I woke up on the floor beside the vanity. I made it to the edge of my collarbone when the instinct to follow the knife with my essence kicked in. The pain seared through me like a secondary knife following the physical blade, but deeper inside.

My teeth clenched so hard to keep the scream in. Sweat covered my face and that was it.

I must have blacked out.

“Fuck.”

The failure stung more than the now-sealed flesh. I assumed a scar would form, but there wasn’t any from my inspection.

“Great.” I sighed while climbing into the chair. Dried blood coated the tip of the dagger, mocking me, daring me to try again.

The pain got the best of me, and I wasn’t eager to pick the blade back up.

Until I saw the darkness in my veins weren’t spread as far. In fact, the more I looked in the mirror, the wider my smile grew.

I looked good.

Normal.

Pointy ears and canines stood out in the reflection, so I was still Fae but maybe this was a good sign that it’d work.

Jumping to my feet, I tested the movement for nausea, or dizziness.

Nothing.

I felt better, and if I could just push past the pain then everything would be great.

Feeling on top of the world, there was only one person I wanted to see. Needed to see. His voice was in my head, and it wasn’t real.

Rune was in the woods. With the full moon approaching he’d likely spend more time in the Hallowstags, since it’s where he felt most comfortable.

It’d been two days since I saw him, saw anyone really. The closer I got, the louder my insecure thoughts became. Was he mad at me for hiding? For letting Tor touch me?

He sat on a fallen tree near a flowing creek. I peered over his shoulder expecting to see a creature with yellow eyes staring at her next meal but saw none. He must have scared them off already.

He didn’t face me, but strong arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me onto his lap as soon as he could reach me. “I can feel you thinking, Sapphira.”

“I was nervous you were mad at me for hiding in my room since we got back,” I said sheepishly.

He watched the water, his expression soft, and peaceful. That sharp jawline, those ears I wanted to nibble on, and that dark hair I loved running my fingers through. Fuck, he was so handsome.

“You’re so beautiful.” I sighed and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He smirked and finally looked at me.

“So, my beauty is what drew you away from your room? I understand now. You love me for my appearance,” he teased and I laughed.

“Oh, yes. I need to make sure my bloodline stays beautiful. Can you imagine, those icy eyes on a baby with my brown skin?” I lifted my chin, teasing back but his smile fell, and his throat bobbed.

“I was just—” Kidding. I meant to add that last bit but was silenced by his lips.

“Marry me.” He groaned and I froze. “I promise, Sapphira, my moon, my mate, that I will always be yours even with the earth has crumbled to dust.”

How does one breathe at a moment like this?

“I love you, my fierce warrior,” he continued, “and I want to claim you, worship you, crawl across the corners of the earth if I must to deserve the gift of your love, your heart.”