Page 101 of The Curse of Golden Blood
"Zydar," I whispered. "I..."
I didn't know what to say. I couldn't put words to the feelings swirling through my chest. I couldn't find a way to tell him that he was the only reason I'd been able to stay sane these past few weeks.
He ran a thumb across my lower lip. "I know."
I blinked away the sting in my eyes, my breathing shaky.
He kissed my forehead lightly, his breath stirring my hair. "I know, little dove."
"Do you?" The question slipped out before I could stop it. "Really know, I mean. Know me."
His hand stilled against my cheek. "What do you mean?"
I pulled back slightly, needing to see his face. "Everything I thought I was, everything I believed about myself... It was a lie. So how can you know me when I don't even know myself?"
"Because the truth of who you are isn't in your bloodline. It's not where you come from or the powers you may or may not possess." He leaned closer, his mouth nearly brushing mine. "It's who you choose to be."
I stared up at him. "And who am I choosing to be right now?"
There was a pause, a heartbeat that felt like the ticking of a thousand invisible clocks. His expression shifted, eyes growing dark with a heat I recognized all too well.
"You're choosing to be mine."
I tried to remember what it was like to be afraid of him.
I couldn't. Not when he was looking at me like that. Not when his lips parted and he spoke those words like a promise.
"Then I am yours."
twenty-eight
To Ruin Gently
Zydar
I'dbeenawakeforhours watching the sun climb higher in the sky, but I couldn't bring myself to move. Not when Miralyte lay curled against my chest like she belonged there, her golden hair spilled across my arm like silk.
Her breathing was deep and even, peaceful in a way I rarely saw when she was awake. No furrow between her brows from worry. No tension in her shoulders from carrying the weight of impossible choices. Just soft warmth pressed against my side, her hand resting over my heart.
The irony wasn't lost on me. She was the only person I could touch, yet the only one I shouldn't.
I looked down where her fingers lay against the fabric of my shirt. Beneath the cloth, I could feel the black veins spreading like poison through my system. They'd grown during thenight, creeping higher toward my throat. Soon they'd be impossible to hide.
But not yet. Not today.
Today, I could still hold her close and pretend we had forever ahead of us instead of the handful of days the rot would allow me.
The realization should have terrified me. Should have sent me into a spiral of rage at the unfairness of it all. Instead, I felt strangely calm. Almost grateful.
I'd spent centuries believing I was incapable of love. That whatever compassion I'd once possessed had been burned out of me by war and necessity. But here was proof that I'd been wrong. Here was evidence that some part of me was still capable of feeling something beyond duty and ambition.
Even if it was too late to matter.
Miralyte stirred in my arms, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. I held perfectly still, not wanting to wake her. These moments of peace were rare, and I wanted to memorize every detail. The way her lips parted slightly as she breathed. The soft sound she made when she shifted closer to my warmth.
Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused, before settling on my face. A smile curved her lips, soft and genuine in a way that made my chest ache.
"Good morning," she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.
