Reach for his closeness.
There will be a few more quiet moments before the elves reach my path to the shore. In that silence, I see him.
Vann, his bloodied figure running from the other side of the hill. His pace is frantic, desperate. The sound of his boots hitting the earth carries over the stillness.
I wait for him, needing to see him—to give him this one last chance to say goodbye.
“What the fuck is going on?” he demands.
Up close, he’s even more terrifying. He’s utterly drenched. His clothes cling to his body, soaked through with the dark red stain. His silver braid sticks to his neck.
The elves approach on the other end, waiting for me, but he steps between me and them.
"Arlet, stop this,” Vann says. He searches my face, likely seeing if my eyes are their normal color. When he realizes I haven’t turned, he looks frantic. “Arlet. Don’t be so self-serving. This is insanity.”
A sharp voice from the group of elves interrupts, cold and commanding. "If she does not come with us now, we will attack."
I take a breath. I meet Vann’s gaze, and I know—this is it.
My gaze shifts to the elf who spoke.
“I will come with you,” I call back.
“You will not,” Vann shouts, stepping forward. Crowding me. Choking me with the scent of blood.
I have just enough space to see one of the men raise their arrow.
“Wait! Just, a moment, please,” I shout. “I am coming!”
The bow lowers.
Vann grabs my shoulders, the handle of his cleaver pushing into my shoulder bone. “What are you doing?” He shakes me once.
Tears spill down my cheeks.
“I saw it,” I bite. “I saw your heart. What you did... you lied to me.”
His face goes pale, and the lines of struggle fade into shock. His gaze locks with mine, a flicker of fear, but something deeper—guilt, maybe—crawls across his features.
“My what?” he whispers.
“The heart you traded to be with Adra. The woman who is not your mate!” I spit the words, bitter and sharp. “The one you lied to me about.”
His eyes search mine.
“How?”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. You… you are my mate Vann. I saw your heart, and heard it sing. But you already made your choice. And now, I have to make mine.”
“No.The last time I saw you, you were begging me to come back safely. Not even an hour ago we?—”
“Mi cielo,”I press my hand against his soiled chest. “What… is one of the things I have wanted most?”
I wait for his answer. A family, a mate, a child, a quiet, happy life. Things he could have given me.
He presses his lips together. He knows. He knows me so well andhe didn’t care.
“I know I’ve made mistakes. Let mefix them.”