Page 66 of The Eternal Mirror
I hold up my hand to stall him. Now that I’ve started, I need to finish. Because this conversation has clarified things in my head—things I’ve been avoiding thinking about. “The thing is, I would do it.” I press my lips together as I think of how to say this. “You once told me that I was all you cared about. That you would watch the world burn if it meant saving me.
“And you know what? I feel the fucking same.” I’m almost shouting the words now. “I would do whatever he asks to save you. Whatever the consequences. I would set the world on fire to keep you from harm. And I would do it in a heartbeat.” My voice goes quiet. “I’m not sure I would have any choice. I never have a choice where you’re concerned.” I take a step back so I can look into his eyes. “Except, I thought—to stay the fuck away from you.”
He shakes his head. “Sweetheart, that was never an option.”
I’m not finished yet. I have to get this out. “But it wouldn’t matter if I save you because I wouldn’t be able to live with myselfafterward. I’m not like you. I do care about the world, or at least some of it. And I suspect whatever Khronus has planned will make Hell look like a party on the beach.”
He doesn’t interrupt. Doesn’t back away.
He just stands there, taking it all like he’s used to being the storm’s target.
When I finish, breathing hard, aching everywhere I’m trying not to feel, he closes the space I put between us. Slow. Measured. Unshaken.
“I know,” he says.
Two words. Quiet. Devastating.
“I know you’d burn the world to save me.” His voice is low now, for me only. “That’s who you are. But it’s also exactly why I trust you not to.”
That stops me cold.
Because it’s the last thing I expect. Not a protest. Not a promise. Just—faith. In me.
“You’re right. You’re not like me, Amber. You’re better. Stronger. You feel more. And that scares the shit out of you; I get it. But if Khronus tries to use me against you, I’ll end him myself before I let that happen.”
My throat tightens. I shake my head. “You can’t promise that.”
He nods. “No. But I can choose to try. That’s all any of us can do.”
I look away, blinking hard.
He takes another step. I don’t move.
“We’re not weak because of the bond,” he says softly. “We’re weak when we keep pretending we’re not already part of each other.”
My heart slams against my ribs.
He lifts his hand—slow, tentative—and places it over mine, still curled into a fist at my side.
“You’re scared of what you’d do for me. I’m scared of what you’ll do without me.”
Then he smirks. That infuriating, infallible smirk that makes me want to slap him or kiss him. Possibly both. “Besides, if you disappear without me now, I’ll follow. And I’ll walk straight through the front gates.”
My jaw tightens. “That’s blackmail.”
“Whatever it takes, sweetheart.”
His voice is all silk and danger, sliding through my bones like he owns the damn place. Like he owns me. “Stop calling me sweetheart.”
It comes out weaker than I want it to. Because every time he says it, badass Amber takes a backseat, and mushy, emotionally compromised Amber starts blinking away fantasies she has no business entertaining.
I seriously hope it’s not her making decisions right now. She’s gotten me in enough trouble already. I stand still for a minute, breathing in through my nose, as if that’ll calm the tremble in my chest. It doesn’t.
Then I turn from him, lift my hands, and whisper the words of the spell.
No, I’m not turning him into a toad. Yet.
“Mirror, mirror, with my breath—
