Page 44 of These Eternal Bones
“He does not understand that this is not a choice. Not for her, and not for myself. Our souls are one and the same. We are as tied as the sun and the moon.”
“Then go to her, Elric. Stop this waiting; you are losing yourself. I have spent long years watching you render yourself to madness. I do not wish for her to endure it in what time she has left.”
My body halts, his words sinking into my gut like the bite of a blade. There is no cure for my affliction, there is nothing that can balm a heart so horrifically broken. Even her soft smiles and warm touches only remind me of what’s to come.
“If I can resist the urge to–”
“You cannot!”
“What Icannotdo… is endure it again,” I whisper, my words nearly lost in the storm.
The sigh that leaves Tien’s mouth is nearly as wary as I feel. “You say that every time, sir, yet youdo.”
“How wonderfully ironic it is…to have done this in pursuit of life, only to want nothing more than for it to end. The head of their coven said a fate worse than death for the unkillable man. I wonder if she is in hell, knowing how right she was.”
“The price of sin was always meant to be steep,” he offers, never one for comfort. Not that it would work, anyway. Tien is one of the few beings alive who knows the entire story. The weight of my guilt. The atrocities I committed were beyond sin. My fate is a fitting one, but hers is not-
I stop breathing, my head snapping toward the windows. It was as faint as a quill dropping, but I heard it all the same. A snap.
A scream.
Dread swallows me whole, and I’m gone before Tien can react.
Agony pierces my heart as the wind barrels into me, snow like blades.
She is fine.
We are not bonded.
She will not die.
She won’t.
Yes, she will.
You’ll lose her.
The cottage comes into view, and my very soul pitches at the sight, at her quiet cries from inside. The backside of the small building caved in. I’m inside my mind, a haze of worry so strong it snuffs out the hunger that had gripped me so terribly moments before.
“Molly!” I roar, my eyes darting over the rubble.
Dirt, old wood, smoke, and lilac.
It’s not her voice but her cough I hear first, carefully removing the wood and brick from around her until a flash of white pulls my attention, panic making my movements blur until her wide, scared eyes meet mine. I jerk her into my arms as carefully as I can, stepping into the blinding snow once more, a wisp of shadow in the distance.
One of my subjects came to lend a hand or harm?
It doesn’t matter because I can smell it, her blood, her whimpers barrel toward me as I rush us through the woods. Her soft, delicate skin at the mercy of the storm. Frustration fills me because I cannot help her, cannot warm her flesh. My bare, unyielding flesh against hers offers her no comfort until I burst into my estate, only the selkie and Tien there to brave the sight of me. She offers a soft gasp but knows better than to reach for my mate in my current state. Having learned the lesson the hard way in several lives. The golden man stays out of sight, but I can smell him, hear the rapid state of his pulse just down the hall.
Listening.
I pass them all, darting to my chambers, my eyes glued to hers, screwed shut and shivering violently. From the cold or the shock, I’m not sure. As soon as we stop, her skin turns pallid. It’s the way her eyes snap open, wide and urgent, that has me shifting her in front of the toilet. She hunches, vomiting, her tiny hands streaked with dirt as she grips the toilet.
“Ugh, stop!” she groans as I press into her, looking for signs of damage. I ignore her weak swatting, taking a deep breath for the first time when I see there is no change in her blood. No internal bleeding. None at all, save for the cut on her eyebrow. My mind waivers, my fangs expanding before I whisk it away, bringing my thumb to my fang and pushing hard. My venom dripping onto my thumb before I smooth it over the tiny wound.
To have it touch her feels like a sin in and of itself.
“It’s the speed. Humans do not handle it well,” I offer as she vomits again. My chest aches with the desire to hold her, to comfort her, to brush her hair from her face, but I do not. I cannot, once I know she’s okay, that need crashes back in, mottling my senses until all I can smell is her.
