Page 82 of Silver Claws, Crimson Tears
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” I step sideways, away from him, away from temptation. “Besides, Fragor would never come. He’d never abandon his oath to Heratrix to protect Embernia.”
His expression falters, the first crack in hiscertainty.
“And neither would you,” I continue, pressing my advantage. “Not truly. Not without destroying yourself in the process.”
“Rhealyn, I?—”
“No, Vaylen. We both know you’re offering the impossible. And I won’t be the cause of your destruction. Besides,” I add, cold sharpness in each syllable, “we don’t even know if I’ve given myself to another man during that missing year. Perhaps I’ve been someone else’s lover all this time.”
The words land exactly as I hope. He flinches as if I’ve slapped him, his jaw tightening until I hear his teeth grinding. Pain flashes across his face before hardening into something close to fury. Good. Let him hate me. It’s cleaner that way.
“You don’t believe that,” he says, but doubt clouds his eyes.
“Don’t I?” I let the question hang between us like toxic fumes. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I forgot all about you.”
His hands curl into fists at his sides. “Stop this.”
“Things will be much easier for you this way,” I continue, relentless in my cruelty. “No more worrying about me, about what I am, about what I’ve done. You’ll be free to focus on your important role. Maybe even give Eleonora the attention she’s so desperate for, at least she’s not a murderessanda Weaver. In the end, you’ll thank me for ending this before it destroyed us both.”
“Don’t do this.” His voice drops to a ragged whisper. “Please, Rhealyn.”
My heart splinters at the sound of my name on his lips, but I keep my face expressionless. “It’s done.”
“This is because I hurt you with what I said.” He steps closer, desperate now. “I was wrong. I was jealous and afraid and... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I remain unmoved, though it costs me everything to maintain this façade. Inside, I’m screaming, begging him to seethrough this performance, to fight harder, to refuse to let me go. But I can’t risk him doing something stupid like following me to Emberton, throwing away everything for a woman who might not even be worthy of his sacrifice.
“Your apology changes nothing,” I say flatly. “We’re done, Vaylen. My mind is made up. Accept it.”
For a long, strained moment, he doesn’t move. Tears line his eyes, but they don’t fall. His gaze holds mine, unblinking, pleading silently for me to stop this madness, to see that he’s truly sorry, that he loves me.
I know he does. Of course I know. He waited for me for a year, for Heratrix’s sake. Searching that cursed mountain for me. Protecting my secret even when he thought I was dead. A man like Vaylen doesn’t love halfway. He once warned me he didn’t do things half heartedly.
That’s precisely why I have to end this.
“Goodbye,” I say, the word carrying all the finality I intend. My voice doesn’t break, though my heart shatters with each blow.
I turn my back to him, unable to bear the raw hurt in his expression a moment longer. For a heartbeat, I think he might grab me, spin me around, force me to face what I’m throwing away. Part of me wants him to. The reckless, selfish part that doesn’t care about consequences or duty or the greater good.
But Vaylen is proud, and I’ve struck too deep, aimed my words at his most vulnerable places. He won’t grovel. Not again. I’m counting on it.
He exhales, a sound so soft it’s barely there. Then footsteps—measured, controlled—moving away from me. The door opens and closes with a quiet click. The sound echoes in my chest like thunder.
“There,” I whisper to the empty room. “You’ve done it. You’ve pushed him away, the one man who—“ My voicecatches, and I press my fist against my mouth. No. I won’t cry. Not now, not until I’m alone with Zephyros where no one can see.
My dragon’s voice slips into my mind, gentle but reproachful.
—Are you sure?
—It’s the right thing to do. He’ll forget me soon enough.
—You lie to yourself as skillfully as you lie to him.
I ignore Zephyros, straightening my shoulders and swallowing back the grief threatening to choke me. This is the path I’ve chosen. The only path that keeps Vaylen safe from whatever darkness pursues me, whatever I’ve become during that missing year, because I have a feeling it’s nothing good. I have a feeling this is only the tip of the iceberg.
Better he hates me now than loves me and suffers more later.
