Page 298 of Emylia

Then she turned to me.

Leaning forward, she cupped my cheeks between her hands—hands stained red with her own blood—and pressed her lips to my forehead.

"I love you," she breathed, "to Elessandria’s moon and back."

“Mom. Please. Please don’t go,” I sobbed out, words collapsing under the weight of them.

She smiled—that same soft, sad smile—and then a shudder ran through her.

And she was gone.

ChapterSixty-Six

The world didn’t stop.

The sun didn’t dim.

The air didn’t tear itself apart.

It should have.

It should have.

The late afternoon sunlight caught her hair, making it glow—chestnut and gold—like she wasn’t even dead.

Like she was just sleeping.

But her skin was already paling. Her lips, once so warm and alive, already cooling. Her beautiful green eyes—my eyes—would never open again.

Gentle hands—Maalikai’s hands—tried to pull me back, but I tore away.

“Mom.” I shook her shoulder, gentle at first.

“Mom. Mom—Mommy.” The last word broke inside me, splintering like frozen stalactites.

I knew.

Gods, I knew she wouldn't answer.

But I needed her to.

I needed her.

Fissures spiderwebbed through my soul, hairline cracks widening until there was nothing left to hold me together.

Tentatively, I ran a hand across her cheek.

Still soft.

Still warm.

I pressed my lips to her forehead—desperately clinging to the fading heat.

If we had gotten here sooner?—

If I had been faster?—

If—

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