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“You’re not even going to fight?”
“Is that what you want? A fight?” Zylah clenched her jaw. “Do you want to go to war, carve up the land in the name of vengeance?”
“No.”
“No,” Saoirse echoed. “You just want others to suffer as you have suffered. I understand.”
“You’re not doing a very good job of talking me out of it.”
“Do you want to be talked out of it or do you just want to hear me beg for my life?”
Zylah didn’t answer. Saoirse leaned forward and the knife bit deeper, drawing a line of blood. “Easy,” Saoirse whispered, then her lips were at Zylah’s neck, her ear, before grazing over her delicate lips.
They parted slightly. “What are you doing?” Zylah asked, her voice uneven.
“Stealing pieces of heaven before I wake up in hell.”
“I thought I already told you no.”
“I won’t be here much longer anyway, so what does it matter? Unless you don’t plan on killing me.” She kissed the corner of Zylah’s mouth and Zylah shoved away, rising to her feet.
“You’re unbelievable.” Saoirse blinked, staring at the female and the knife in her hand. “You,” Zylah’s hands were shaking. “You were really just going to let me do it, weren’t you?”
“If that’s what it takes to make you happy.”
“You don’t even know me,” Zylah exclaimed. “We’ve had a drink and a handful of conversations. Why in the gods name would—” Zylah stopped. She stared into Saoirse’s gaze and whatever she found there was enough to make her eyes widen. Zylah looked her up and down and her lips slowly parted. “Holy gods.” She shook her head. “You think I’m your mate.” Saoirse’s heart still thundered even as Zylah swept a frustrated hand across her face.
“And here I thought you were an overly possessive female who just couldn’t stand not getting something she wanted.”
“That, too,” Saoirse said with a small smile.
“I’m a half-breed.”
“Why should that matter?”
“I’m a female.”
Saoirse quirked a brow. “Again, why would that matter?”
“Isn’t the whole bond supposed to represent, I don’t know, the ability to procreate?”
Saoirse chuckled. “False presumptions are often made when mortal creatures try to understand the ways of the gods.”
“You’re not mortal.”
“Do we not die as the humans do? How many Fae have you known to fade from the land? It is a gift to live so long, and one we are not often afforded.”
Zylah continued pacing and Saoirse watched as if she could see the female replaying their every encounter.
“I don’t feel a bond,” Zylah said. “Do you?”
“It’s a pull,” Saoirse admitted. “A calling to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?”
“Everything.”
“And I get no say in the matter? I’m just expected to see you at every turn for the rest of my life?”
