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Killian hesitated only a moment before he burst into the room. Raela lay on the massive daybed, surrounded by the light from the windows. Her face was serene and pain-free but lacked the simmering sunshine her smile usually carried, the fire and vigor and passion that burst from her very heartbeat. She was sleeping. Her magic slept too.
He moved slowly toward her, then sat on the bed’s edge beside her, regarding her face. Her hair was golden in the sideways light of sunset.
Her curse was unbroken.
“Oh, Raela,” he said aloud, and he grasped her hand, holding it gently in his. That such an evil creature would ever try to crush someone with so lovely a heart and soul was horrific. True evil.
But now what?
Killian pressed the back of Raela’s hand against his forehead as he clenched his eyes shut. He had escaped the nightmare, the castle, and the forest. He had broken through the thorns, fought his way through the castle, saved his people, and defeated Zalina. But why wasn’t Raela free? Why wasn’t she awake? Zalina was gone.
Searching her face and arms, he found no purple thorn marks and no red gem. Her eyes, when he opened them, were not covered by a purple haze. She just … slept.
A tear seeped from the corner of his eye.
He had fought so hard. He had endured. He had won.
And still she slept.
Killian had fought to be worthy of the throne and had acted to serve others. He had accepted himself. He had faced his father and was now ready to accept whatever his father chose.
But his heart cracked, bursting with the love he had for her. He wanted her.
Her goodness pushed him to soften, and her kindness called him to be the best version of himself. But he wanted her. Her mind, body, and soul. To love her, and treasure her, and stand out of her way as she thrived and blossomed. Living, he hoped, alongside him.
But he had failed. Once again.
The old temptation to quit and pull back before he’d risked too much echoed in his mind, the comfort of safety and rest and not even trying. Retreat and hide. He’d failed his mother, he had repeatedly failed his father. And now he had failed the woman he loved.
Killian wept, bitterness rising within him, suffocated by guilt.
His gaze lingered on the gentle arc of her eyebrows and the lift of her nose. He could almost still hear her voice and feel the squeeze of her hand.
No. He couldn’t quit. He had to find a way, had to free her, had to release her from this curse so she could live her life vibrantly and decide for herself—with or without him. She was now free from the forest where she had been hidden. If she chose to leave him, he would let her. He loved her enough to let her be free too. He would search every book, try every bit of magic the fairies could think of to free her. And he wouldn’t stop until she was awake.
He studied her delicate blue veins, then flipped her hand over and followed the lines of her palm with his fingertips. Killian traced down each of them and then he froze.
A golden-brown splinter stuck in the tip of her index finger. He delicately grabbed it and pulled it out, throwing it to the brightly-lit floor where it smoked to ash in the beam of light. A tiny bead of blood raised in the wound. He brushed it aside with his thumb and kissed the fingertip.
“A kiss for the pain,” he said with a sad smile. How he wished he could go back to the time she had said that to him, holding his hand in hers. He sighed.
Then her hand clasped his. He heard her take a breath.
Blinking twice, he dared to look at Raela’s face. Her blue eyes flashed back at his. He was elated, ecstatic.
She was … furious?
She turned her head away. “Go away, Killian.”
“What?”
“Go away.” She turned to him, her eyes glassy with tears. “You kissed another. But it matters not. I am promised to another man.” She sniffed, and turned her eyes again, squeezing her lids. “So go away.”
She tried to pull her hand away, but Killian held fast. “Raela, what you saw was not a betrayal. She forced it. I didn’t want it. I was coming for you.”
“But I am promised.”
“And I am promised,” he said with a smile.
