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“What is it?”
“They took your ribbon,” he breathes, lifting his hand, the red mark on his wrist from where they tore the ribbon off him.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, my heart cracking wide open, “it’s okay, Adar—”
He trails his fingers over my cheek. “You must go.”
“I don’t care. I’m not leaving you to die. I’m yours. As you are mine.” I shake my head. “I love you.”
“Selina…”
“It’s the truth. I have loved you from the start, just… please. Don’t leave me.”
A grimace twists his features. His hand drops from my face, and arching back, he cries out, the sound strangled and filled with pain.
My heart is in my throat, making it hard to breathe. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”
“Holy Gods below,” Lily whispers, scrambling to her feet, backing up to the table. “His tail.”
“It’s magic.” The old healer is drawing symbols on her forehead to repel evil. “Damn the tricksters. Your magic can’t tempt me. May the Gods save me.”
His back bows, his lips pull back, teeth bared in a grimace. His hands claw at the wall, at himself as his tail… splits.
In two.
The sound of rending flesh is terrible. The sight of blood gushing, of bones shifting, bare red flesh gaping makes me gag and dry heave.
“Please, Gods,” I breathe, and tears are spilling down my face, “please, don’t kill him.” Though how someone could survive this is beyond me. “Please, Adar, don’t leave me…”
But he has gone perfectly still and panic hits me when I don’t think I can hear him breathing. I can’t see, tears blinding me. I run my hands over his chest, over his beloved face, and lean in to kiss him again.
I sob against his chest.
I curse the Gods.
I want time to stop. To end. I can’t imagine tomorrow without him.
“Selina! Did you see?” Lily is whispering. “Look. Look!”
I shake my head, pressing my forehead to his shoulder. “I don’t care,” I mumble. “See what?”
“His tail.”
“I can’t… can’t look at it again.”
“No, look. Just… look.”
I finally turn my head and I find that his tail… is gone. In its place are legs, strong and muscular, pale like the rest of him. The net is now loose around them.
Legs.
A groan leaves his lips and I turn back to him, still not sure what just happened.
“Adar!” I reach for him, for his face, needing to touch him. “You’re alive.”
“Your lips… are salty,” he says, the words mere puffs of air. “You’re crying.”
“I thought you were dying,” I whisper. “Leaving me.”
