Page 117 of Fae Champion

I knew it.

Surely he did too.

Slowly, with more effort than seemed possible, I dragged my stare up, up, up his sculpted body, until it landed on his eyes.

They glowed a cloudy white so bright it was all I could see. My vision narrowed onto those two celestial globes, which contained more sorrow than I’d ever felt—even now.

Every pulse of those moonlit eyes sang of his heart—broken, shattered … dying.

My sight tapered until even those eyes of his, more moving than anything else I’d ever seen in my entire life, blurred, overcome by the brightness that was carrying me away.

My eyelids slowly fluttered shut.

The strong, courageous warrior who was leader of an entire clan of fae roared as furiously and ferociously as the Dragon Mother … before keening like little Saffron.

Then I knew no more.

EPILOGUE

~ RUSH ~

Three days crawled past, each one too long, too replete with a wrenching agony I suspected I might never surpass. Despite that small eternity, it still felt like my internal organs were desiccated, shriveled masses rattling around the hollow husk of my former self.

Absolutely everything ached, even my skin, too sensitive to touch. Every little thing bothered me, grated against each of my senses. I couldn’t stand to so much as look at the queen. I’d feigned illness to get away from her for a few days. My excuse wouldn’t hold for long enough, but I hoped I’d find a way to pretend I hadn’t pierced my own heart when I had Elowyn’s.

If Elowyn’s sacrifice was to mean anything, the queen would have to believe I was her willing pawn, and if not that, at least that she’d be able to manipulate me—for the rest of her wretched life—as much as she wanted.

It was the only way what I’d lost would be worth losing.

When I’d stabbed Elowyn, I’d experienced her pain as if it were my own, as if I’d turned that blade on myself instead of marring that gorgeous, smooth, creamy skin that was more perfect than any I’d ever seen.

The queen believed Elowyn dead. She herself had searched for a pulse and found none. When I’d last seen my love, her heart had no longer beat, no longer pumped life through her veins. Her body was already growing cold when I’d pressed a final kiss to her lips, whose feel and taste I’d never forget no matter how long I lived.

But I had a secret.

I’d wagered the most important thing in the entire world on it.

I’d bet Elowyn.

Her heart was very likely to heal … eventually—at least the organ would—though she’d forever carry a scar, physical evidence of what I’d done.

It would be a rough journey, and there were no complete guarantees Elowyn would find her way to the end of it, no assurances I’d hold her in my arms again, that I’d ever get the chance to explain to her why I’d had no better choice than to do what I’d done.

In Amarantos we had medicine wielders and wisdom keepers Embermere didn’t, who accessed an ancient magic the queen appeared to know nothing about. From them I’d heard stories. At the time, they’dseemed more like folklore, perhaps even myths, that had no relevance to my life.

But the queen would have killed Elowyn in a way she could never come back from if I hadn’t at least tried to save her.

I’d riskedherwhen all I’d wanted was to spare her every pain, each torment, to cradle her in my embrace and whisk her away from the court and the cunt of a queen who only ever hurt everyone I cared about.

I trusted the elders of Amarantos and their knowledge of this archaic magic that predated the mirror world, that came from the pure elves of the Golden Forest. But even the elders had never personally known anyone who’d come back from the other side of the death I’d inflicted on Elowyn. They’d only heard stories that it was possible from their parents and grandparents and great-grandparents.

It was the most horrific risk I’d ever taken, one that scarcely allowed my chest to fully inflate with breath, each inhale leaving me feeling emptier than before. Wrong. Cold. As dead as Elowyn had appeared when I’d handed her body over to Xeno and, in front of the queen, told him to leave with Saffron and take her. To bury her far, far away.

My mate.

Elowyn didn’t understand what it meant to be bonded to me, but I sure as shit did.

And I’d stabbed her in the fucking heart.

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