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Still, I crawl.
And crawl and crawl.
Until my body gives out.
Chapter 42
GWYN
I don’t know how it happened.
One moment, I’m gazing at the love of my life.
The next, he’s on his knees, blood sputtering from between his lips, as he crawls toward me.
And behind him looms Lord Devlin.
Tears burn my eyes as I race down the petal-laden aisle, falling to my knees in front of Riven. I rip the blade from his back and turn him gently, cradling him in my lap. His breathing is shallow, eyes glazed with pain.
He’s going to die.
I feel it as his heart slows under my palm.
See it in the blood coating his teeth as he smiles at me.
Riven Thaelon, my love, is going to die from this wound. This betrayal.
And I’m going to have to bring him back.
“It’s okay,” I say, voice eerily steady as I formulate a plan. “I’ll fix this. We will be together.”
His hand trembles as he lifts it to caress my cheek.
“Don’t taint your soul for me.”
“Without you,” I murmur, kissing his palm, “I have no soul, for you and I are bound. By fate, by choice.”
“But—” He coughs, folding forward. “Your vow.”
He only knows of my original vow, to not harm another living soul.
“Don’t worry about that,” I whisper.
The glamour he’s worked so hard to maintain flickers, revealing the truth he’s been hiding. A terrible blight—a painful curse—ravaging the Fae Isles in glittering sickness.
A portal tears open in the clearing, and Avaline, Carver, Lettie, Arkyn, Quill, and Rory step through. Achlys leaps from Lettie’s arms and races over to me, shifting into his preferred form.
“Now, Quill!” Rory commands, dark hair pinned out of her face.
Quill vanishes in a cloud of shimmering myst and reappears across the glade near the Viretree, tackling Lord Devlin to the ground.
“Gwyn,” Ava calls out. “I’m so sorry. This… this wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Arkyn drops beside me, panting. “Riven—”
“Where were you?” I hiss. “You are truly the worst sword catcher. You—”
“Gwyn, don’t blame him.” Riven coughs. “I—I sent him away. It was part of the plan to draw Devlin out.”
