Page 63 of Light

She wanted to hate him, to blame him, but it wasn’t his fault. She had been so desperate to find a way to prove herself worthy of an eternity in Alaxia that she would have agreed to anything.

She was upset because she had been a fool.

Gabriel crossed the room, settling himself beside her on the bed. He gave her no room to move away.

Wedged between him and the boys, she huffed, turning her back to him.

“Light.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He leaned across her twisted form, settling two fingers under her chin and turned her face to his. “You’re no fool. You’re the bravest human, the bravest being I’ve ever known.”

She tore her chin from his grasp, swiping a tear from her cheek.

“I’ve doomed my entire line.”

“Only the women.” He repeated the words from before.

She hadn’t missed the way he hadn’t greeted their boys, though. The way he hadn’t scooped them up or cooed over them. He hadn’t so much as glanced their way. He was disappointed in her choice. In her.

“If you can survive beyond twenty-five, we can avoid this curse altogether,” he said.

She turned back to him, hope shining in her. “Do you believe that would work?”

“Yes.”

The pain she had not yet let herself drown in was draining away, replaced with something new. It gleamed, scouring the dark places in her mind. She could survive to twenty-six and avoid cursing her line.

They would find another way to end Sanura.

She twisted toward him, wrapping him in a fierce hug. “Together, we’ll face it together.”

He stiffened in her grasp.

Some of the warmth in her bled away as the inkling of premonition that always guided her told her she was about to be dealt another blow. She loosened her grip, leaning back to meet his stare.

His eyes never wavered from hers, never looked to the squirming babies beside her as he told her what he had done to protect their sons.

Her hand flew to her mouth. “No. No. You can’t.”

“If there’s even the slightest chance you don’t survive to twenty-six, it will have been for nothing if I don’t keep up my end of the deal. I cannot be here.”

His eyes were brimming with sorrow, and she heard the unspoken words. It was killing him not to look at them, to hold them, to know he would be giving them up for the rest of their lives.

“Only until we beat this,” he said aloud.

One year. She’d done it before. She could do it again. She let her mental shields drop, showing him her confidence in their plan. In him.

“My light in the darkness, I don’t want to leave you. I never want to be parted.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re hardly here. It will be a greater inconvenience for me by far.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Stay alive. Promise me.”

“We’re rubbish at promises,” she reminded him.

The dark swirls in his eyes seemed to intensify and he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She opened her mouth, sucking his lower lip between her teeth and bit.

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