Constantine quieted them, said to watch him instead, and suggested I be in charge of monitoring the Midnight Fae Prince.
And that was when I’d recommended the bite. “It’ll provide me with a way to really keep tabs on him, just like Aflora.”
The approval in Constantine’s irises had been unnerving.
Then Malik had disagreed.
And the two had dismissed themselves to engage in a private conversation, one where Constantine weaved a spell that no one seemed to see except for me. Perhaps because I’d witnessed variations of it in other timelines.
Regardless, permission was given.
The link was formed.
And everyone thought I’d done it out of duty.
My knees buckled now as the last of Kolstov’s life began to slip away, his crow appearing from thin air to caw in devastation against his master’s chest.
Ella burst into tears.
Tray sat stunned.
And I focused on that thread… the single speck of life that I needed… to bring Kolstov back.
Don’t you dare let go, I thought at him, aware that he couldn’t hear me, his final breath touching the air. Work with me here, Kolstov. Don’t give up.
But I felt him slipping away, his heart slowing as the final specks of his blood disappeared.
Fully dry.
Depleted of his essence.
Dead by all definitions of the word.
I hung my head, my heart in tatters. If this was what losing a first-level mate felt like, I couldn’t imagine what I’d endure if something happened to Aflora.
Death consumed me, my energy wilting beneath the onslaught of loss. But that flicker of life remained, tugging at my essence, sucking at the needed power to remain alive.
Don’t let go of me, I whispered. I’ve got you.
Tears blurred my eyes, the impact of loss overwhelming and terrifying.
Fuck, Kols. Just… hold on.
Because I couldn’t bear to truly lose him. And I didn’t even really like him. This had to be destroying Aflora.
As though she heard me, a rumble of power went through the ground, her energy flaring to life.
My eyes widened at the impact, then my lips parted as a burning thwomp shot up from the floor, decimating the table.
Oh, shit.
The Councilmen reacted, Malik running to the door and leaving his son’s corpse behind without a second thought.
Tray crawled toward his twin, his expression one I never wanted to see on another person again. Devastation. Loss. Abject terror.
“Tray,” Ella whispered, her voice choked.
But he didn’t hear her, his body collapsing over his brother on an anguished cry.