He cut himself off, pursing his trembling lips as he pulled the flask away.
“But please survive this, Ash,” he whispered, clutching the flask as he stared at me. “Please don’t give up. If you died, I—”
He jumped when I snorted at that, swallowing repeatedly to savour the wetness coating my throat.
“N-now you c-c-care if I die?”
Lonan’s eyes filled again as he shook his head.
“I always cared. I t-tried to—I tried to warn you. In the ways I could.”
“N-no, you didn’t.”
“Yes.” His voice was desperate. Pleading. He stepped forwards again and placed his palm on my sternum. “I did, I promise. I—I couldn’t tell you, but I—I did what I could to try and—I tried, Ash. I tried. Please believe me.”
Did he think I was so delirious that I would just accept these ridiculous lies? I knew he couldn’t lie outright, but he could twist his words just like all of them did. He could make me believe whatever he wanted—we both knew it. He’d been doing it for months.
The cold was getting deeper with every second. Every breath. I couldn’t stop shivering. I could hardly breathe, and I didn’t believe him at all, so I stayed silent.
“Ash,” Lonan said hoarsely. “I know you hate me. I know I deserve it. B-but please—please believe me when I say—”
“No.”
He seemed momentarily stunned that I wouldn’t even hear him out. He was a fucking prince, after all. Used to getting his own way all of the time.
“Please—”
“No. I d-don’t want to hear anything you h-have to s-say.”
His breath caught. “But I—”
“If y-you’re not g-going to help m-me out of these chains, just f-f-fuck off.”
Lonan was silent for a long, agonising moment.
“I can’t,” he eventually whispered, his voice filled with anguish.
“Then f-fuck off, L-l-lonan.”
“No,” he sobbed, dropping the bottle, its dull thud as it hit the hard ground making me flinch. Placing both icy, burning hands on my chest, he said, “I don’t want to leave you here like this. But I can’t—I can’t defy her—”
His words made me want to flinch, stinging far worse than I thought they would at this point. “F-fine. B-but leave m-me alone.”
Lonan shook his head desperately. “No, I mean Ican’tdefy her—”
This conversation was sapping the last of my energy. I could feel my eyesight fading, my limbs somehow still stiff even as they seemed to go slack in the chains. My throat was dry again already, clicking as I swallowed.
I managed a derisive snort, but it came out weak and thready. “Stop trying to make yourself feel better for this, Lonan.”
I could hear with my own ears that my words were slurred, but no longer stuttering from the cold. In fact, I didn’t feel cold anymore. I felt too hot, and I was no longer shivering. A distant part of my brain knew that was very, very bad.
I blinked a few times when I realised I couldn’t see the lantern’s glow. “I don’t care anymore.”
His breath hitched, and then those long, cold, cruel fingers were digging harder into my chest. Over my frantically beating heart. It was thudding so hard against my ribcage, but I felt slow. Sluggish.
“Ash.” His voice sounded far away. Panicked. Pleading. “No. Don’t—You have to let it happen—Don’t fight it—”
“Not fighting anything,” I mumbled, though I wasn’t entirely sure I got the words out. Or if they even made sense.