Page 127 of Prince of the Undying

My throat clenched. “That’s not true.”

I can’t escape them.His fallen tears blurred the ink on the paper.I belong to them.

“I refuse to believe that.”

He bared his teeth.You don’t understand.

“Then tell me.” I cringed at my words. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

I’ve done terrible things for them. This pain is so deep, I’m drowning in it.

His words stabbed me through my heart. His pain echoed inside me. I caught his gaze. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

I hurt you. I almost?—

He stopped writing, as if he couldn’t admit such a terrible truth, but we both stared at the black dagger on the carpet. He snatched up his dagger, stared at the blade for a moment, then hid it high on a bookshelf.

He wrote,Forgive me.

“I’m still afraid of your nightmares,” I admitted.

When I rubbed my bruised arms, he looked tormented by what he had done.Please don’t touch me when I’m having a nightmare. I’m not myself.

“I won’t.” I swallowed hard. “But I want to help you.”

You can’t.

Two words, and yet they were enough to knock all the air out of my lungs.

“No.” I glared at him. “I won’t abandon you now, not when you’re in so much pain, when you’re hurting too much to see a way out.”

He stared at the paper until he tore it from the notebook and crumpled it in his fist. He tossed it into the embers of the fire and watched it burn.

“We don’t have to go,” I said. “Fuck the Order of the Asphodel.”

His eyebrows descending, he stared sideways at me in disbelief.

“Instead of Constantinople, we can take a train to Switzerland. They don’t want anything to do with this war. We can find some little cottage in the mountains and learn how to make cheese.” I shrugged. “Actually, I’m pretty bad at cooking. We might have to raise cows, or do whatever else it is the Swiss do.”

His mouth twitched. Was he amused by my idea?

Chocolate, he wrote.I like Swiss chocolate better than Swiss cheese.

“I’m not sure I trust your skills in the kitchen. Princes aren’t exactly known for cooking. Neither are necromancers.”

He smiled, but it faded fast.I can’t—He crossed it out.I would love more than anything to run away with you. To Switzerland or America or anywhere else.He tapped the nib of the pen on the paper.But I can’t put you in danger.

I breathed in through my nose. “I’m willing to take that risk.”

Ardis, I am dangerous.

“Really?” I deadpanned. “I had no fucking idea.”

He smiled again, and this time it touched his eyes.

“But you’re more than that.” Emotion rasped my throat and turned my words husky. “You’re more than a necromancer, more than the Prince of the Undying. Don’t let the darkness inside you swallow you whole.”

He stared into my eyes before he reached out to me. He touched his fingertips to my wrist, cautiously, as if afraid I might recoil from him. Instead, I embraced him. He let out a shuddering sigh and kissed me. The intensity of it rushed through me. I hooked my hands behind his neck and melted in his arms.

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