William zeroed in on Puck, but spoke to Gillian. "This must be done, poppet."
"No," she said, and stomped her foot. "Please, no."
She was frightened. Frightened the end of the bond would mean the end of their relationship, which meant a part of her did, in fact, believe her love for Puck would be diminished. But love wasn't just a feeling, he realized. Feelings fluctuated, changing because of circumstances and a million other factors. Love was a choice. A commitment to put someone else first, to give rather than take, to protect and never harm.
By keeping the bond in place, he would be choosing Gillian's future for her. To have that happy ending, she had to choose her own path.
So, Puck planted his heels in the sand, ready to face the future. "Do it, William."
"No!" Gillian tried to stop the male, but he flashed beyond her.
When he reappeared in front of Puck, he paused only a moment before placing the crown where it belonged. Gillian whimpered, nearly undoing Puck. In the next instant, however, he lost sight of everything but the power flowing through him. A cache of Sin's magic. Magic from every Connacht king ever to live.
Each of his abilities returned, and then some. The things he could do...the power he could wield...
Amazing. Magnificent.
Heart-wrenching.
"It's done," William said. "I've given you the Connacht crown."
"Yes." Puck opened his eyes and nodded.
"Now you will free Gillian."
"William, please," she said, dropping to her knees. "Free him from his vow." Looking panicked, she said, "I can't have a happy ending without him."
"You can. You will. I insist on it." The Ever Randy reached out, ghosted his fingertips along her jawline. For once, Puck didn't begrudge the man such a touch--for it was his last.
"No! You know there's a catch with the shears," she said. "Over the centuries I've learned there's always a catch with ancient artifacts."
Puck had once had the same thought himself.
"The shears can be used only once every hundred years. Mortal years," William said. "Unless the shears aren't used for a hundred years. Then they can be used twice in a hundred years. Think roll-over minutes for cell phones. If the shears aren't used in three hundred years, they can then be used three times. So on and so forth."
"I've had them three hundred mortal years." Thousands of Amaranthian years. "Which means I have one more use." For Gillian. In a hundred mortal years, he could help Winter. Another hundred years, and he could help Cameron. Then, finally, a hundred years after that, he could help Sin.
He wouldn't reverse the order, either, even if Sin returned tomorrow. His friends had helped him for centuries, so he would help them first.
"Are you doing this to hurt me?" Gillian asked William. "Because I hurt you?"
William, usually the roughest, toughest male on the block, softened. "No. Believe it or not, I'm doing this to aid you."
Looking defeated, she sat back on her haunches. "Too much has changed already. Just...give us fifty mortal years. Or better yet, a hundred. Then we can revisit this."
So badly Puck wanted to gather her close and assure her all would be well. He hated seeing her afraid. Hated wounding her. He would rather die. But he would rather suffer for eternity than deny her a right to choose.
William gave her a chiding tsk-tsk. "This isn't like you, poppet. You should want this."
"Want it?" she screeched. "My life is finally perfect! Do you know how long I've been waiting for this? Why would I want to change anything?"
"I'm going to guess you've been waiting, oh...five hundred and nineteen years?" William said. "But sweetling, you are wrong. This isn't perfect. But it will be when we're done."
"No!" she repeated. "I want to keep Puck. And I want his horns returned. And his fur. I'm negotiable on the hooves. I just... I need more time with him before we take any risks, okay? I sense that breaking the bond is what causes my unhappy ending. Let's prove this prophecy wrong."
Puck's heart shattered, his resolve weakening. But he sensed the truth, too. This was the right thing to do. "Without the demon, I have the ability to shapeshift. And I will, anytime you desire." To demonstrate, he shifted into his beastly form. "I love you, Gillian. I love you, and there's nothing you or anyone else can do about it. This, I vow to you. Now let me prove it." He reached out, smoothed a strand of hair from her cheek. "Let me do this for you. And us."
"No." She radiated all kinds of violence. "I told you, there's too much at risk."
William expelled a heavy breath. "Enough. This has to be done. The effects should be immediate, but we'll give it the rest of the day, just in case. If you still want him by the time the sun sets, your new marriage will have my blessing. But one way or another, you will know your true heart--and his. This is a gift I'm giving you."
She leaped to her feet and slapped him. Hard. The crack probably echoed for miles. "Why are you doing this? To win me? Even without the bond, I'm not going to--"
Puck flashed in front of her, just in case William decided to attack.
I can flash now? Apparently.
The other man rubbed his cheek and rolled his eyes at Puck. "Perhaps this is a gift to you, Pucker. If you don't want her, you won't have to deal with her temper."
Puck realized the truth then: William had fully bowed out. Had no claim, and wanted none.
With a grin, Puck stepped aside to let the two friends speak.
Tone gentle, William said to Gillian, "I allowed a need to protect a scared, abused creature to confuse me. And while I love the warrior woman you've become, your feelings for another man are a deal breaker, and your strength a hard no. I cannot be with a woman who might or might not have the power to defeat me. Unless, of course, I find that code breaker." His eyes narrowed. "And I will."
Puck kept his attention on Gillian, looking away impossible. She was strong, had faced so much with her head high. And yet, here and now she dropped to her knees a second time, willingly placing herself in a position of vulnerability and supplication. But this time, she didn't beg. She bowed her head and sobbed.
The sight of her broke what remained of Puck's resolve, and if he'd loved her any less, even just a fraction, he would have begged William to end this. But just as much as she needed to know she'd chosen Puck freely, she needed to know he'd chosen her freely.
"Trust me, lass. Please." He dropped to his knees in front of her, took her hands, kissed her knuckles. "Let me prove my love for you is real and lasting, bond or no bond."
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but finally she nodded.
Not wanting to hesitate and risk changing his mind, Puck lifted the shears from his chest...and cut.
45
Gillian knew the exact moment her bond with Puck broke, because what remained of her heart broke with it. Wave after wave of sorrow eroded the contentment she'd managed to obtain. Grief replaced exhilaration.
Every cell in her body mourned the connection with her husband.
Once, she'd gone five hundred years without him, and she'd (mostly) thrived. Now, she couldn't go five seconds?
The metal band around Puck's wrist unclicked and fell to the ground. Like the final gong meant to call warriors home from battle.
She gazed at her husband--her ex--who watched her with a blank expression, and she wanted to vomit. Had he reverted to the Ice Man? No, no. He no longer hosted Indifference, so he had no need of the ice. Unless he just didn't want to deal with his emotions?
No! He wouldn't summon the ice, not around her. He'd promised.
Had he fallen out of love with her, then? Had her unhappy ending arrived?
Had she fallen out of love with him?
She looked from Puck to William, who watched her expectantly. As she peered into his ice-blue eyes, love overshadowed mourning but...that love was still seeded in friendship. She had zero romantic interest in William.
Her attention zoomed back to Puck, and her heart began to race, spurred into action by
love and lust, an unfathomable amount of each, and fully romantic.
Her gaze searched Puck's unreadable face. "Have your feelings for me changed?" If they had, she would...what?
You are a warrior. You will fight for what you want, that's what.
That was right. Gillian raised her chin. If necessary, she would woo him. She would fight for him and win him back. This wasn't the end.
Why had she feared this, anyway? When she didn't like something, she changed it.
"I don't want what I feel for you to influence your decision, but..." The mask fell away from his features, revealing adoration, affection, tenderness--love. "You aren't just the love of my life, lass. You are my life. I've told this, have I not?"
Throwing her arms around him, Gillian cried, "I love you, too." So much. All that worry--for nothing. Absolutely nothing! She could have saved herself, and Puck, a ton of angst if she'd just trusted their connection.
Love never failed.
"This is boring." Winter winced, all I'm embarrassed for you both. "And kind of gross. Love sucks."
"For once, I agree with you, Winnie." As Winter sputtered about her hatred for the new nickname, William pulled Gillian to her feet. He couldn't force her to let go of Puck, however. Perhaps he understood he'd lose a hand if he tried. "You two aren't going to spend the bulk of your single hours in a staring contest. If you do, in fact, decide to get together again--"
"We do," Gillian and Puck said in unison.