Page 81 of The Curse of Golden Blood
I swallowed. “No. I agreed to do it. For Silvyr.”
Tomos’s brow furrowed. “I’m not a fool. I know there’s something going on here. Something beyond what meets the eye.” He leaned forward. “If you need help, you can trust me. I can protect you.”
How could I make him understand? How could I explain that this was something that I had to do? That it was something that Iwanted, even though I was scared. I had spent my entire life running from fear, and I was tired of it.
I took a deep breath. “I appreciate your concern, Tomos, but I’m fine. This is my choice.” I held his gaze, steady and sure. “I want to do this. For Silvyr, for Narietta, and for myself.”
Tomos looked at me for a long moment, and then he nodded slowly. He placed his hand on mine, squeezing it gently. “I understand.” He paused. “And I’ll support you, whatever you choose.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was wrong. That I was wrong.
That this would only end in tragedy. The thought sent a chill down my spine. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the task at hand. But even as I did, I couldn’t help but think about what could go wrong.
What would happen if my blood failed them?
What would happen to the rest of my life if my blood was the only cure?
The answer to that question was something that I didn’t want to think about. I pushed it away, burying it deep inside me.
Tomos’s gaze softened. He moved slowly, lifting my other hand in his, careful not to disturb the cuff biting into my wrist. “You’ve grown reckless.”
“I’ve grown tired.” My voice cracked. “Tired of waiting. Tired of sitting by while others suffer. Tired of letting fear rule my life.”
Tomos was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “I understand.”
I looked at him, surprised. “You do?”
He nodded. “I know what it’s like to be tired. To be so tired that you’re willing to do anything to make it stop.”
I stared at him for a moment, not knowing what to say. Then I asked softly, “How did you deal with it?”
He smiled sadly. “I didn’t. I just kept going.”
His words lingered like smoke, curling through the hollow parts of me. I nodded faintly, the corners of my mouth twitching in something too bitter to be called a smile.
Then the pain hit—sharp and sudden, a flare of heat that lanced up my arm where the cuff met skin.
I hissed, jerking slightly. “Gods, that burns.”
Tomos frowned, leaning closer, almost cheek to cheek, as he inspected the siphon closely. “That’s new. Has that happened before?”
I shook my head, the pain already fading to a dull throb. “It’s probably just a side effect of the treatments.”
He didn’t seem convinced, but he nodded anyway. I glanced at the siphon, where my blood still flowed into the obsidian bowl in a faint crimson stream. The glow was brighter now. Hotter.
“Your skin is warm,” Tomos said softly. “Almost hot.”
I swallowed. “Just give me a moment.”
He didn’t move away. And I didn’t ask him to.
For a while, we just sat there, the faint dripping of blood into the basin the only sound between us. My veins felt hollow, like something essential had been pulled from me and wasn’t coming back.
Maybe that was the point.
I turned to him, quietly. “Tomos…”
