He sucked in a harsh breath and stood. His eyes were green once more. “I won’t always be able to fight it.” His voice was so ragged that it broke my heart. Shadows danced in his eyes. “You can’t be near me.”
“Yes, I can. Because I’m as strong as you. I can fight this when it happens.”
“Can you kill me?” He stalked toward me, intensity in his voice. “Because that’s what you need to be willing to do.”
Memories of us flashed in my mind—us, kneeling in the Seelie court, the knife in our hands.
I hadn’t been able to kill him then. But if I had to… I straightened my shoulders. “Our kingdoms rely on me. Only I can defeat the false queen. So yes, I can do what is necessary.”
“Kill me. That is what is necessary if I turn on you again.”
My heart twisted. “Yes.”
He nodded, his jaw set. His magic sparked briefly, and he conjured a pair of iron manacles that had a very short chain between two wrist loops. He snapped one onto his left wrist, then put his hands behind his back and snapped the other.
I swallowed hard and nodded, hating the sight of him like this, but appreciating it. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Anything for you.”
“Keep that in mind if this gets harder. Because I’m going to heal you, no matter what. I don’t care if the curse turns you fully to her side. I’m going to drag you along until I can fix you.”
“Then we need to find this cure. Soon. Because I won’t make it much longer.”
“We will. I swear it.”
“You fight for what you want.”
“I fight for what I love.” I approached him, my legs shaking from the adrenaline.
He was back with me. His eyes were green once more, his expression familiar. I wasn’t going to lose this opportunity.
I stopped in front of him, standing up on my toes to press a kiss to his mouth. He groaned and dipped his head low, capturing my lips with his own.
My heart thundered as he kissed me. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my body full length against his.
He shuddered. “I wish I could touch you.”
“It’s all right. I can touch you.” I pushed him back against the bed and climbed on top of him.
He growled and moved beneath me, strong and hard. I pressed myself against him, kissing my way down his neck. I began to pull at his shirt, but with his arms behind his back, it was impossible to get it off.
“Cut it off,” he rasped. “I can conjure another.”
I drew a dagger from the ether and did as he commanded, slicing the clothes away from his strong chest. Heat welled within me as the clothing fell away, revealing long expanses of smooth skin stretched taut over iron muscles.
I pressed my lips to his chest, and he arched up toward me. I slowed down, determined to enjoy every second. After all, this might be our last night together. I was going to take advantage of it.
The next morning, I woke alone. After an amazing night, Tarron had gone to the other room and barred the door. He’d never once taken off the manacles, which I appreciated as much as I hated.
But damn if I wasn’t ready for this to be over.
It didn’t take long for me to dress in my fight wear. Before he’d left last night, Tarron had conjured me some fresh socks and underwear, which was so thoughtfully domestic that it made tears prick my eyes.
Dressed, I peeked out the curtains.
Still dark.
Golden street lamps illuminated the courtyard outside, but the tables were empty in the early morning stillness. Perfect timing for us, since our goal was to arrive at the west coast of Scotland at first light and catch our ride to the Slate Isles.
I went to Tarron’s room and knocked.
“Come in.” His voice filtered through the wood.
I used my key and unlocked the door. He was already awake, though he was still shirtless. As I walked in, he stood. He’d conjured a tight pair of boxer briefs, and damned if he didn’t look good.
“How are you?” I asked, warmth suffusing me at the sight of him. He might be cursed to kill me, but when he was himself…
It was all too easy to remember that I loved him.
“Fine,” he said. “You?”
“Good as can be expected. Can you conjure the key to those cuffs?”
He frowned.
“You have to,” I said. “We need your fighting arm. And we’re about to join Declan and Aeri. If you turn, we can take you.”
His lips tightened, but he nodded. “All right.”
Briefly, his magic flared, and a small silver key appeared on the little table by the bed. I picked it up and went around to stand behind him.
The manacles on his wrists were stained red with blood, and the skin was raw and torn.
I gasped. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
My lips pursed. “You turned in the night, didn’t you?”
“I felt her influence, yes.”
“But you fought it.”
“Barely. Took everything I had.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tight.
I was going to kill that bitch.
Quickly, I removed the manacles. He groaned as he moved his stiff arms toward the front.
“Heal yourself,” I commanded.
“The pain helps me keep my own mind.”
I frowned, but bit back an argument and went to the door. I looked back briefly to see him conjuring clothing.
“We’ll fix this, Mari,” he said.
I nodded, praying he was right. “We’ll meet downstairs in ten minutes.”
“See you then.”
I went back to my room and fixed my makeup using a quick glamour. At the assigned time, I met Declan and Aeri in the breakfast room next to the lobby. It looked ancient, done up entirely in dark wood that was ornately carved.
Aeri handed me a paper-wrapped sandwich. “Bacon. Not your favorite kind, but bacon all the same.”
My stomach grumbled at the savory scent, and I unwrapped it and bit in. The flavor of English bacon and a soft warm bun exploded in my mouth. “This is amazing. Thank you so much.”
Tarron arrived a moment later, and Aeri handed him a sandwich. The staff had kindly put together paper cups of coffee for us, and we set out into the dark morning. The streets were empty at this hour, the cobblestones glinting golden under the light of the street lamps.
With all of the people tucked away in their beds, the whole town felt as ancient as it looked. Without people in modern clothing filling the streets, it was easy to think we’d stepped back in time.
Silently, we walked down the street toward the enormous cathedral that sat on the other side of the square.
York Minster was one of the most impressive religious structures that I’d ever seen, the front soaring hundreds of feet in the air. The white stone was carved with endless intricate decorations.
We approached the huge wooden doors, and I pushed one open and entered the silence of the space. Though the doors were unlocked at all hours to allow admittance to anyone who wanted to pray, the pews were all empty. The echoing, empty silence made it clear there was no one inside.
The space was huge, with an enormously high vaulted ceiling. At the other end, the altar stood lonely and quiet. Enormous flower arrangements scented the air, along with the wax of still-burning endless candles.