Page 94 of Treasured

That horrible, two-timing witch.

Had she done something to stop the jewel’s effectiveness? Koleta had promised me the ruby would always shine as long as I bathed it in the blood of strong warriors. Human or vampire, elf or shifter, it didn’t matter. The ruby fed on strength and fear, and it got both from the sacrifices I procured.

What had changed?

Death Wasn’t an Option

LUNA

Sebastian cried out and fell to his knees in the middle of the salt circle. Shadows flooded out of him, and he gripped his chest like he was having a heart attack. I lurched to my feet, intent on going to him.

“No!” Genevieve grabbed me, holding me back. “You can’t enter the circle. The severing is underway, and it cannot be stopped. You’ll kill him.”

The witch ignored us as he chanted. Endless streams of ribbons left his hands as he walked around Sebastian.

Agony was a never-ending wave crashing through the Binding Mark.

This was worse than the summons. Worse than anything else I’d ever experienced. My own head pounded, but my pain was nothing compared to Sebastian’s. He roared, his eyes squeezed shut as beads of sweat rolled down his face.

“Hurry, please,” I begged the elderly witch. “You’re hurting him.”

Beaufort cast me a glance that said, I’m working as fast as I can.

Not fast enough.

Every single groan that came from Sebastian’s lips was a wooden stake driven into me. Each was worse than the last.

On and on and on, the witch worked. Minutes became hours. The passing of time did not bring any relief. Wave after wave of hurt ran through the Binding Mark. I’d never given birth—nor would I, since vampires did not bear children—but I imagined the intense clenching, searing, burning pain in my muscles would be similar.

But Beaufort couldn’t stop. Not without potentially hurting Sebastian more or even killing him.

Death wasn’t an option. Not now, not ever.

Keeping that in mind, I didn’t speak when Beaufort raised his hands. Seconds later, when Sebastian shouted, I bit my tongue. When the blue ribbons dove into my husband, forcing a guttural roar out of him, I clenched my fists in my tunic and choked on a sob. And when the blue threads froze in the air, the color leeching out of them until they were completely white, I did not speak at all.

Once again, Beaufort clapped.

Silence fell, as loud as any symphony. The ribbons dissolved. The burning in my muscles eased, the ache dissipated, and Sebastian slumped over, clearly exhausted.

Beaufort stepped forward and broke the salt circle. “Go ahead.”

I did not ask any questions. Relief ran through me as I dashed in, gathering my prince in my arms.

Sebastian’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was labored, but he was alive. I probed the connection between us. It was as strong as ever.

I glanced up at the witch. Heavy shadows hung beneath his eyes, and his face was drawn, nearly skeletal. He looked as though he’d aged a decade in the past few hours.

“Such strong magic,” he murmured, swaying from side to side. “In all my years, I’ve never felt anything like it.”

Sebastian moaned in my arms, and I pressed my lips against his forehead.

I’m here, I said through the bond. To the witch, I asked, “Did it work?”

He ran a sleeve over his forehead, his chest heaving. “I believe so, Your Highness. I’ve never encountered such a powerful Maker bond, but I think the severing was a success. You will know in a few hours when he wakes.”

Genevieve placed a hand on my shoulder. “Would you like to stay here or go back to your room?”

I chewed on my lip. “I’ll bring us back to our room.” That way, I could keep Sebastian comfortable. I drew on my shadows, but before I released them, I looked at Genevieve, and then Beaufort. “Thank you both. This means more to us than you will ever know.”

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