Page 135 of The Beast King's Bride

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TALEN

I’ve fallen into darkness. I float in it, barely aware, voices filtering into my thoughts, a low lament that I somehow know is for me.

I want to tell them, tell these women crying over me, that I am okay. Finally letting go of the world, the pain lessening, the weight on my shoulders slipping. I tried holding on to it—my people, my land, needing to fight for them—but I cannot anymore. Cannot move. Cannot get up. My heart is slowing down, its beat a distant echo in my ears.

It’s almost over and there is a sweet relief in the realization. The agony in my chest is fading, my limbs turning to stone, my head growing light.

My thoughts fly. I see the faces of my family and I ask that they forgive me, that they will survive. I see Jassin, his face serious, and I hope he finds a man to love him the way he deserves.

I see Ash, her smile, and I try to smile, too.

The moon is about to dawn. I can feel it in my bones, as they ready themselves for my final transformation and my death.

Darkness swirls around me, pieces of stars and clouds. It’s almost peaceful, almost calm.

Almost. I can let go of the thread now, I think, of the rope binding me to this body. I can let go and float away into nothingness and be free.

But then I think I hear Ash’s voice.

I’m dreaming, I tell myself. Dying.It’s over. She isn’t here. She’s in her world, living joyfully, safe and sound.

But her voice persists. She sounds like she’s in pain, scared. Damn it all to the black pits of death. Is she here? Is she in danger?

Is that the Empress I can hear, talking with her? No… No, it’s impossible. I sent Ash away to protect her even if it meant tearing my beating heart out, and now…

This changes everything. I cannot… cannot let go.

Even as my bones ache, reaching for the transformation, even as my thoughts want to detach themselves from this ruined body and float away.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I pull back from the shift and open my eyes.

The moon slants through the windows, its first rays hitting me. Hitting my hands, the whorls and lines on my palms, on top of them, my knuckles, all encrusted with dried blood, cuts that have stopped bleeding showing black.

How am I doing this? How am I not transforming? I should not be able to stop it, even if the curse allowed me. My power is empty, I reach for my magic and there is nothing left. I used it all up and it will take days for me to gather it back. But my body… I frown. I remember the hydra, the dragons… I remember taking hit after hit, slash after slash. And yet here I am, in my Fae form.

How… how am I still alive?

Where is Ash?

I make a sound, meant to be a question, meant to be the shape of her name, but it comes out as a hoarse croak, my throat too dry. My eyes are still adjusting to the dimness of the room. It’s as if all the lights have gone out, leaving only the thin shaft of moonlight falling on me.

But then I see them, a cluster of women, gathered together, arms linked as if braced against danger, a living wall. And a man.

“Jassin?” I swing my legs off the desk—why am I on a desk?—and slide to the floor, my knees almost buckling. I cling on to the edge not to go sprawling on the carpet. “Jas?”

“Talen!” Jassin is turning toward me, his face a picture, joy and surprise and sadness and confusion. “Sire. You’re alive.”

His shock echoes my thoughts. “It seems I am.” Along with mobility, the exhaustion and pain are returning, too, and I hadn’t missed them. My wounds burn as I take a stumbling step toward the group, testing my balance. “What happened? I thought I heard the Empress. I thought I heard Ash.”

Was it a dream? A hallucination caused by the proximity of death?

Did I come back for no reason?

Did I dream of a reason to come back and keep fighting?

“Sire…” Jassin’s face crumbles a little, and it makes no sense.

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