Page 10 of Oath-Maker

I met his gaze with a hard look. “What is wrong with you? This is not the Angel of Death I’ve been told to fear.” I cupped his cheek with one hand. “This is not the Lucius who fought so hard yesterday for his city.” All day, he’d been effectively resigned to this being the end. Which was why he’d wanted us married and me crowned so quickly. It was why he’d forced himself to put on a good face for the court. “This isn’t over.”

Lucius nodded. “It will be soon.”

My jaw set hard. Beneath my hand, the light sickness had retreated some but not nearly enough. Throughout the day, the radiant cracks on Lucius’s skin had sprawled across his entire chest and abdomen. By morning, it’d reach his arms and legs, and then… then it’d be a matter of hours before he’d be dead.

Tears stung my eyes. My lip quivered.No, no, no. Lucius didn’t need to see me cry right now. There was no time for crying.

Lucius wiped away a traitorous tear that had slipped through and begun running down my cheek. “It’s okay, Ayla. I know you will protect Alastia and find a way to defeat the Fallen. I wanted to save us, I wanted our bond as mates to fulfill what we were meant to, and I did. We’re together now.”

I dropped my hand from his cheek. My magic stopped flowing around my fingertips. “I can’t do this without you.”

“You’ve led before.”

“Yeah,” I snapped, “the paladins, and only because Merek died. It’s not the same.Thisis not the same, Lucius. I love you. I need you. You can’t die on me. Not like this.”

Lucius smiled softly, but the resignation was still there and so foreign on his expression that it made me want to slap it away. “I know. And I love you too. More than anything or anyone. But our future is running short, and I must do what I can to ensure it is left as secure as possible for you and for Alastia.”

I bit my tongue to keep from speaking. Had to turn from Lucius to keep from shaking sense into him. I wanted him to fight. I wanted that fire from the last four days. But it seemed like the light sickness had burned hope from him as well as reason.

But then the flower came into view. The one Merek—or the Guardian, if that was what he wanted to be called now—had left earlier this morning.This flower will stave off the effects of light sickness for about a day. He’d intended it to give us a chance at clear thoughts about how to proceed against the Fallen.

Or it was a trap to kill Lucius.

Or maybe it really wasn’t.

My gut churned, but it settled on an answer. Instinct told me that if the Guardian really was Merek—or if there was any part of Merek still left in what he had become—the flower was not a trap. Merek had always been fair before the night he’d supposedly died. He’d never have fought a defenseless demon. Moreover, I had to believe thatheknew killing Lucius would not onlynotsway me to his side, but it’d also create an enemy out of every able demonic citizen in this city.

The flower was not a trap. It was a gift, one meant to sway me to Merek or to reason—or both. It was a momentary reprieve that, while desperately needed, set me on edge.

I got up from the bed and went to where the flower rested. I held it between my hands and examined it. Warmth flowed from its petals along with a constant gold shimmer. “I think we should try this,” I said as I glanced back at Lucius.

His brow creased tightly. “I thought we agreed it was likely a trap.”

“I don’t think so anymore.” Or maybe it was just my desperation. “We haven’t found another cure, Lucius.”

“Because there isn’t one we know about.”

I sighed and sat beside him again. “It’s worth the risk, I think. If we really believe there’s no other cure to be found—”

“You do.”

I moved the flower to one palm and grabbed his hand with my free one. “I do, and I… I hate seeing you like this, Lucius. I hate that you’ve given in. If there’s no other way, we should try this. The more I think about it, the more I believe the Guardian wouldn’t give you something that’d kill you. This flower also falls under the realm of ‘the Order probably has a cure we don’t know about.’ This gives us a day more than we’d have, Lucius. And we don’t have much.”

Lucius’s brow had relaxed sometime during my argument, but his hard gaze hadn’t left the shimmering, gold flower. “Do you believe one day more is worth having in our fight against the Fallen?”

I grabbed his chin. “One day more is worth everything for you and me. Forget the Fallen, Lucius. Set aside Alastia for a moment. You and me. I want longer. Ineedlonger.” I pressed the flower into his hand. “This isn’t over. We aren’t, and neither is this fight. Do you hear me?”

Lucius nodded in small motions. He curled his fingers around the flower and a flash of his magic lit up the space around us. When he uncurled his fingers again, the flower was gone, replaced by a fine radiant gold dust in its stead. “Bring me some tea.”

Love—and hope—bloomed in my chest. I did as Lucius asked, leaving the room quickly to track down a tea kettle and some cups. By the time I had returned, Lucius had moved himself to the edge of the bed so he was sitting upright. I handed him the cup of hot tea and he carefully let the radiant gold flower powder sift between his fingers into the cup. It turned the tea water gold, too.

“Let’s hope your instincts are right,” Lucius said as he brought the cup to his lips with shaky hands.

I had a single moment of immense uncertainty, but I kept it unvoiced. This was the right thing to do. My instincts were strong and usually right.

Lucius drank the tea. At first, nothing happened or changed. Not even as he drank the full cup. I watched him closely for any signs of distress or poisoning. But as he finished the tea and set the empty cup aside, the only sign that anything at all had changed was Lucius perking up. He met my gaze for a moment, and the smile on his face stole my very breath. It was wide and hopeful.

“I think it’s working,” Lucius said.

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