Relinquish(56)

I can feel my nails digging into my palms, deep enough to reopen earlier wounds. Before all of this is over, I will most likely end up with permanent scars.

He doesn’t shout or cry or rant as I need him to. Instead, he gently takes my hand in his, uncurling my fingers and pressing his lips to each one. The intimacy of this kiss triples as I hear him whisper my name over and over.

Oh, God! No!

The tears come fast and hard as I feel him drawing me into his arms. I need to resist, but I can’t. I feel broken as I press my cheek against his neck and he envelops me with a love that should not be yet is. It always is.

“You’re worth it to me,” he whispers into my ear.

“Please don’t say that,” I plead breathlessly, feeling my resolve weaken. I know if he were to draw away now, it would shatter my heart. I need him, yet it is forbidden to me.

He left me. Not the other way around. I remember pleading with him to stay, knowing it would crush Eamon, but he was worth it to me. A year ago, I was willing to give everything up for him… and he is still willing to do the same for me.

“I can’t bear to hear you say that, knowing we can’t…” My voice quakes so badly that my words tumble into silence.

Bastien’s arms tighten around me, so much that I fear I will not be able to draw my next breath, and I find I don’t care. Not if it means living without him in my life again, being forced to say good-bye when all I want is to spend an eternity just like this.

“Kiss me,” I whisper before I can stop myself.

He stiffens and his breathing halts. I wait for him to say something, to protest and remind me that this can’t be, but he doesn’t. I draw back to look into his eyes, knowing what I find there just might end me. Within the depths of sapphire, I see fear and longing mingled together, but there is something more… love.

He brushes his thumb across my cheek, slow and deliberate, as if testing the silkiness of my skin. I can smell the slightly minty scent on his breath and memories of a time when nothing stood in our way flood in. I close my eyes, savoring the moment.

And then his lips whisper across mine, so softly I hardly know he has kissed me until he presses harder on the second pass. His hands wind down my neck to clasp my back, drawing me near.

I can feel his restraint and his buried desire. It burns through him like a hot coal, but he holds back. Each of his touches is slow, gentle, and utterly beautiful.

His fingers trail over the curves of my face, as if attempting to memorize each detail. Did he dream of me as I did him? Did he lie awake at night yearning with such intensity that he would break out in a fever?

His touch tells me yes. His lips tell me yes.

Oh, God. My breath catches as I draw back to look at him. Nothing has changed between us.

Yet I know everything has. Sariana’s earlier words encase my heart in ice. One of them will die. I can’t let that happen.

I cry out as a vision grips me so suddenly I hardly have time to fling Bastien away. My hands curl inward and my body spasms and I flail onto the floor, lost within my mind.

A burst of color reflects in the mirror as I whip around to see a giant fireball spiraling toward the palace. “Duck!”

Bastien and Aloysius don’t hear me. I throw out my hand and mentally shove them aside as flames erupt against the side of the building, spitting molten rock into the room. I cry out as one of the rock shards lands upon my leg, cauterizing my skin.

“Illyria!” Bastien drives his hand into Aloysius’s side and a terrible snapping sound fills my ears. My husband howls and rolls to his side. Bastien scrambles to his feet and throws himself to my side. “Oh, God, you’re burning.”

The scent of my flesh melting makes my head swim. I can feel his hands upon me as he digs the scalding rock out of my leg. Darkness edges my vision. The pain is localized but excruciating.

“We have to get you out of here!”

Another explosion rocks the palace. Over the cracking of stone and hiss of flames, I can hear shouting from below. “Eamon!”

Bastien rises to look out the window and nods. “They’re coming. We have to—” His eyes widen and his mouth gapes open.

“No!” I shriek as a blood-tipped spike shoves through his stomach from his back. Aloysius’s maniacal grin appears over his shoulder as he shoves Bastien aside. He shudders, blood bubbling from his lips. Pain pinches his features; his hands shake as he touches the spike protruding from his stomach. Gurgling moans rise from his throat as he locks his gaze on me, glazing over. “Illyria…” He stretches out his hand toward me.

I can hear the wet wheezing in his chest and feel numbness wash over me. Blood pools beneath him, thick and bright. I watch as it begins to seep toward me. When I look back at him, his eyes are unfocused and his chest is still.