Page 47 of Once Upon a Woven Wish
“The magic had been too strong.It destroyed her.And I remained.”
“I-I—”
When she started to speak, he moved toward her, taking her by the upper arms, and pulling her close.“I swore I would never love again.But then you came with too much courage and too much kindness.You foolish, beautiful girl.You look at me—like that—and I remember.”His voice cracked.He paused, swallowed.“I remember what it’s like to feel alive.”
Silence fell between them.He dropped his hands and stepped back, turning away from her, toward the Well.His gloved hands leaned on the edge of the stone as he stared down into the darkness.She moved next to him and reached for him, her hand shaking.She placed it on his arm to gain his attention.
When he looked at her with those blue-green eyes, she saw the torture, the regret, the sorrow.
“Then let me be the one who frees you.Not by forgetting.But by remembering your name.”
His eyes went wide as he stiffened, his back straight.“Serena—”
“I know who you are.You are Caedon Lyserian, Fae Prince of the Seelie Court.”
As she said it, frost cracked along the Well’s rim.It rumbled as a wicked scream ripped from its depths.The ground shook their feet.
No!It shouted.NO!NO!NO!He’s mine!
Caedon sucked in a deep breath, the cold air burning his lungs as he glanced at the Well, the glittering gold magic swirling up from the depths.It had been delighted to take his life, but she had foiled that.
“Not anymore,” she said with such vehemence it shocked him.His eyes swung back to her.Defiance lit her face.“Shall I say it again?Caedon Lyserian.”
His name rolled off her tongue.And it was such a sweet sound.Something he had not heard in more than an age.His heart swelled then thudded against his chest, echoing in the hollow chambers of his soul.His name.For so long he had been only Weaver, only shadow, only servitude.Now he was himself.
Awe cracked him open, sharp and sweet.In his bones, he felt the chains snap.Each link exploding outward, centuries of magic unwinding from his veins in molten rivers.He staggered, breath tearing free as if he’d been drowning all this time and only now found air.
She had done it.And for one glorious moment, he was free.
He stripped off the gloves, flinging them to the ground, and watched as the golden runes etched in his skin faded to nothing, disappearing as though it had never happened.He held them up, gaping at them in wonder.
His eyes met her bright blue ones shimmering with tears.Her face creased with elation.She took a step toward him, reaching for him.
Then she gasped, her body seizing and bowing backward.A cry ripped from her as the golden light shot from the Well.Gold tendrils wrapped her like the chains that had once bound him.Then, the same runes that branded him were etched into her delicate skin, glowing and burning brightly as it had the day he paid his due.
And now she had paid.
Terror licked at the edges of his joy.The Well would not release so easily.The horror nearly broke him.To free him was to doom her.
The Well laughed, a deep dark laugh full of malice and hate and revenge.
She will take your sentence, Weaver.She will pay YOUR price since she robbed me of the one pleasure I had in a millennium—the thought of your death.
“No!Serena!”
The book she held tumbled from her arms, landing with a muffled thud at her feet.She pitched forward, falling in the snow.He wasn’t fast enough to catch her.She writhed in agony, the light searing through her veins and lighting her up from the inside.He knew that pain.He could not let her bear it.
He scooped her into his arms.Her teeth chattered as she looked at him, the brightness fading from her eyes.She lifted a hand as if to touch his cheek, then saw the burning, glowing fire in her hands and her face crumpled.
“I-I saved you.You’re free.Caedon.”
Oh,gods, but he would give anything to reverse what was done to her.What was taken from him.
“Yes, I’m free.”
She dies, you fool.I will have my due,the Well insisted.
He ignored it.It had taunted him for centuries and he was done with it.Caedon brushed his hand over her cold cheek.
