Page 25 of Heart of the Shadow King

He could easily break my hold again. He is so vast and strong, and I am but a little mortal nothing, a spirit trapped in a body that constantly seeks to betray me. But my heart is strong. I will not be thrown off.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Vor says, his voice in agony. “I don’t want to burden you.”

“I am your wife. It is my honor to share your burdens.”

“I long more than anything to keep you near. But if I have learned nothing else in these last few days, it is the futility of my own desires.”

Another surge of pain streaks up my arm. Within that pain I sense a hardness, a firmness of purpose and resolve. It frightens me more than anything else. “Vor,” I whisper. “Vor, what are you saying?”

He meets my gaze. That same firmness flares in the depths of his eyes. “I’ve been selfish. Thinking I could keep you here in the center of imminent destruction. Thinking I could shield you.”

Ah. So this is where his thoughts are trending. Once again, he plans to send me back. To ignore my own wishes in the name of protection, to banish me from his world, from his life. And what then? Will I live out my days in exile among my own kind? Cursed with a life I never asked to have restored? A life which must be spent rather than lived, far from this man, whose very existence has become the only true home I’ve ever known.

I look into his eyes, see the conviction there. He is king, after all; he is used to his will being law. He is ready to suffer for my sake and unwilling to let me suffer for his. But I have a will of my own.

I squeeze his hand. The pain of his feelings bursts in my head, but I lean into it, taking hold of it as my right. Through the thundering pound in my temples, I whisper, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“It is madness for you to stay.”

The look on his face could break my heart even as the agony in his spirit threatens to shatter my body. I lean in harder and repeat, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Faraine, Faraine!” He sighs and draws me toward him, runs a gentle finger along the curve of my cheek. “We are like children playing make-believe, telling ourselves pretty stories. But this story cannot have a happy ending. Everything will be lost. It is inevitable. Foretold by the Deeper Dark long ages ago.”

“Perhaps,” I admit, leaning into his touch. “And I will be with you, Vor. At the very end.”

Even now he resists. His love for me is perhaps my greatest enemy in this moment. That love makes him afraid. Afraid of loss, afraid of a sundering he can neither predict nor control. “I brought you back from the dead so that you would live,” he says. “Not to see you poisoned, ripped apart, or crushed to death in a cataclysmic earthshake. Your life is worth too much to me.”

“And yet, it is mine. My life. My choice.”

“Faraine—”

I break away from him then, whirl on heel and march along the lake shore. My bare feet splash in the shallows. There are sharp stones here, but I avoid the worst of them, putting some distance between me and my husband. I wrap my arms around myself. He isn’t wrong. The danger here in Mythanar is tremendous. And inescapable. What hope is there? Neither I nor Vor nor anyone truly believes my father will send his mages to aid the Under Realm. Even if he did, what could they do against such a foe?

Dragon.The word itself is enough to turn my knees to water. I’m uncertain where the idea came from, who first told me. Or did I pick it up myself? The evidence is everywhere—all the carvings in every chamber of the palace, on every wall. The intricate, serpentine coils embroidered on garments and woven into tapestries. The myth of the Great Dragon pervades the kingdom, the mighty being trapped in the heart of the world, sleeping . . . stirring . . . waking . . .

The Miphates can work wonders of magic beyond my small imagining. But they are nothing compared to such raw, destructive power. They cannot stop what’s coming. No one can.

“Are you willing? To fight for Vor? To fight for Mythanar?”

But how can I fight? My magic, always fickle, is more unpredictable than ever now. There’s nothing I can do against the forces besetting Vor’s world. I am less than useless.

It doesn’t matter. Useless or not, I can stand by his side, holding his hand while his kingdom falls. I can be with him. To the end. And we will walk through that realm of mist and find our way into whatever afterlife the gods have planned for us. Together.

Suddenly he’s there, behind me. So close, I can feel the warmth of his breath against the back of my neck. I inhale just before his hands grip my upper arms.

“Faraine.”

His touch sends feeling shooting through my senses again. But this time not pain. No, definitely not pain.

“I’m not leaving,” I whisper.

He nuzzles my hair, presses a kiss to my temple. “Faraine, Faraine.”

“I’m not leaving, Vor.”

His mouth trails lower, kisses finding every sensitive inch of skin along my ear, my jaw, my neck. He swipes back my hair, baring my shoulder. His fingers trace down that curve, sparking sensation. I let out a shuddering breath and lean my head back against his chest, my eyelids dropping shut.

“Faraine, you would break my heart,” he says, his voice low and husky. “You would destroy me piece by piece.”

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