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“I need to jump. You’re going to feel some jostling.”
“Okay.” My voice sounds pathetic even to me.
Air whooshes past me, and we hit the ground with a heavy thud. Rafferty runs with me in his arms, and my vision finally begins to clear enough, the air drying my tears as we reach the tree line. I cradle my injured hand to my chest as pain shoots up my arm with each jostled movement.
Rafferty doesn’t speak, something I am beyond grateful for. It gives me time to process, and besides, what can be said? I’m married. Forced into a union with Taranus, and neither of us can change that.
My only hope is to return to my own world where I can die a miserably slow death, thanks to an illness no one understands.
* * *
I don’t knowhow long he runs, but it’s not until his body is slick with sweat, his breathing ragged, that he finally slows to a stop. “May I set you down?”
“Yes. Please.”
He sets me down, and my bare feet meet cool grass. The sun is not quite all the way overhead, though it has risen enough to bathe the world in a soft golden glow. At some point while we ran, I dozed off, only to be woken the second nightmares took form.
I’m married.
Vomit burns in my throat, and I fall to my knees as it splatters all over the ground. Rafferty is right there, gripping my hair and holding it back out of my face. His hand rubs small circles on my back, something that aids in calming the panic.
I heave for what feels like hours until, finally, there’s nothing left. Sitting back on my legs, I cover my face with both hands. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve nothing to apologize for, Ember.” He reaches down and lifts my hand then presses his fingers to the wound.
It stings—for a moment—then, the pain vanishes.
I gape down at my injury, shocked to see the wound closed.
“How did you—”
“Magic,” he whispers, then lifts my hand and presses his lips to the top, right where the skin is freshly sealed.
It steals my breath even as my own internal pain consumes me.
“I—I tried to stop him. Conary showed up right after Bea left. He wouldn’t let me go.”
Rafferty raises his head but doesn’t release me. “You did nothing wrong. You hear me?”
When I look away, he lifts me and pulls me into his arms then reaches down to tilt my face so I can look up at him. His golden eyes swirl with pain—with regret. “You did nothing wrong, Ember. You’re a victim here.”
“We’re mated. He mated me.” Then, it hits me what that means. I shove away from Rafferty. “Kill me.”
His eyes widen in complete horror. “What?”
“Kill me. If you kill me, he will die, too. Please.” In demonstration, I grab the dagger tucked into his waist and pull it out, pointing it at myself.
“No.”
“You have to. He’s going to kill people as he looks for me. Kill me now, and he dies, too. That’s what you said, right? If a fae’s truemate dies, the other one does, too. Wait, does that mean that I’m his—” My stomach rolls. Never finding love is one thing, but being the soulmate to a murdering psychopath?
Rafferty steps forward and grips the hilt of the blade, wrapping his hand over mine. “I’m not going to kill you, lass.” His tone is soft, understanding, and full of pity.
“Please, Rafferty. Please just do it.” The quivering takes over again, and I fall to my knees, covering both eyes with shaking hands. “I don’t want any of this. Please, just end it. End us both.”
“I do not believe you are his true mate,” he says softly. “Though, you are human which changes the rules. The wedding vows were the first spoken to turn you into one of my kind. That’s what the blood exchange was for.” He sighs. “And even if killing you would work, there is no force on this earth that would drive me to put a blade through your heart.”
I look up, but through my tear-filled eyes, he’s little more than a blur. “Why won’t it work?”
