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I wish I could have had a moment to say something to Ryther. Butif I did, Loch would see through me and act before I can do what needs to be done.But wishes are of little use to anyone.
I have to believe he’ll be here for my brother, though. In my memory, Ryther will support Loch's reign just as he would have supported mine.
“Then I release you of any and all previous oaths, Loch Oberon Night of the house Harthorn.”
As fast as I can, I take the blade in his hand and press it to my chest, thrusting it in one smooth thrust.
It's only right.
After all, both of my parents died because of me today. I will not be responsible for murdering someone else who has loved meunconditionallysince before my first cry.
Still, it hurts.
It hurts so very much.
And all I hear as the world fades into darkness are screams.
CHAPTER FIFTY
TO THE END OF THE WORLD
Ryther
I'm the first to reach her. Loch's frozen solid in shock, trembling all over, eyes wide as his sister's blood spills all over his white shirt. He doesn't move to catch her body in time, but I do. She doesn't hit the floor.
I drag her to me, repeating her name over and over, like a chant.
I pull the knife out. I have to.My hand presses hard against her chest, but there's too much blood, and already, I see the life fading from those eyes.
Yet I can't stop. I don't stop. Not until my palms have pushed past her corset and connected with her skin.
The energy I pulse into her would have fed a thousand lower fae's life force. But even if I gave her everything that makes my heart beat, it wouldn't be enough.
She pierced her heart. She killed herself. Of all the foolish, selfless, ridiculous things to do, she fucking killed herself. I'd strangle her for it if I could.
"It's not working," Caenan tells me, his voice verging on panic.
"Healing energy can only do so much," Relva reasons. "To bring someone back from the edge of death…" She shakes her head, not saying what I know—what we all know.
I'd have to give my life for hers.
"Even then, he'd have to mend her heart. Is that possible?"
I feel my hair brush past my shoulder as years of my life bleed out while I give them to her. I watch her wound close, slowly, but those eyes remain shut. She's not moving. She's not breathing.
The flesh of a fae can be mended, but a heart pierced by an iron blade? Only one kind of power can undo this.
I make myself look away from her long enough to stare at the prince responsible for Darina's death. "Snap out of it," I growl. "She did this for you. You owe her."
Loch is speechless, still stuck in the horror of the moment.
"You will take her to the heart of Ilvaris. Your blood will open the way. She needs the power of the All Goddess."
"Ryther," Caenan says gently. "She's dead. How can that help anything?"
That's logical. Except we're far beyond logic, and facts, and what we know about the universe. We're walking paths defined by the cruelest of gods.
“I see you clear as day,” the little human said. “And you’re nothing."
