Page 60 of The Unseelie Wish
They sat there for a long moment before he sniffed and cleared his throat, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Let’s get this over with before I change my mind.”
Sliding from his lap, she nodded. He was right. There was no point in delaying things any longer. “How do we do this?”
“Fuck if I know, toots.” He stood and straightened his suit and then his tie. “There’s a reason they call it the Maze. Only a few people have ever fought their way to the tree at the center of it. And it’s not like it’s ever in the same place twice. I’m betting we never even see it—he’ll kill us before we get that close.”
“Great.” She sighed. “What do we do if he tries to take me prisoner?”
“I thought about that. I won’t be able to stop your heart anymore. And you won’t be able to kill yourself if he claps you in iron.” Izael headed over to one of his bookcases. Pulling a small box from it, he returned to her. Chuckling, he opened the lid. “This feels right.”
It was a ring. Beautiful and delicate, the silver band tangled around a bright teal jewel set into a heavier base. She was dumbstruck once more.
“Our meeting began with rings. And now, it will end with one.” Pulling the ring from the box, he flicked a small, nearly invisible clasp on the side of it. It was filled with a strange, greenish powder. “Poison. Fast acting. You will feel nothing. And he will not be able to get you to a healer in time, and that power is far outside his reach.” He closed the lid on the ring before lifting her hand and slipping it onto the ring finger of her left hand.
The meaning of it wasn’t lost on her. Shutting her eyes tight, she took a breath and let it out, keeping her tears at bay. Barely. “It’s gorgeous.”
“And deadly. Just like me.” There was that cheeky grin of his again, though it didn’t last long. “I’d say take it now, but—there is a slim chance that together we might be able to kill him. It’s worth a try. If he captures you before you can use your magic to stop your own music—then swallow the poison.”
“Yeah.” The thought turned her stomach. But it was a good plan. Best that they had, anyway. “This sucks.”
“Tell me about it.” He tilted her head up to him. “Tell me you’re mine, songbird. That even though I go to my grave without your love?—”
She cut him off with another kiss, wrapping her arms behind his neck. She couldn’t take it. Couldn’t take the way his voice cracked. She loved the boisterous, man-eating maniac. Not this sad, defeated thing before her.
When she broke away, she smiled sadly at him. “I’m yours. And even through all this—with how it’s going to end—I…don’t regret any of it.”
That made him smile, even if it was drowning in grief, just like hers. Taking a step back, he offered her the crook of his elbow. “Then let us shuffle off this mortal coil.”
She placed her arm in his.
And couldn’t help but notice the music around them had changed into a dirge.
Izael did not know what the point of love was if it hurt this badly. He could barely wrap his head around what was about to happen. He, the Duke of Bones—was about to attempt to murder his King. Not only that, he knew he was going to lose! Even if Alex’s power was unique and strong enough to take down Valroy, there was no chance the Unseelie King went down without a fight.
And Izael knew he would take whatever blows were meant for her. He would ensure that she got her best shot. And that meant, even if she was ultimately successful, she would live on without him.
That was the other reason he opted not to take her soul. It was pointless. He would have it for thirty minutes before it was returned to her upon his death. It’d be a waste of time and energy.
But he didn’t mention to her the fact he knew that even if, somehow, against all odds, she succeeded in destroying the great tree that was Valroy, she would walk away alone. Why make her dread every possible outcome? Why ruin even the smallest bit of hope that this wasn’t a goodbye?
She had mentioned, while they sat on that mortal child playground, that no one would miss her on Earth. No one would miss him on Tir n’Aill. Not even “Uncle” Anfar or his selkie mate Perin. Perhaps Puck would miss the chaos Izael could cause, but he would not miss the creature that caused it.
No, all they had was themselves.
“Will you miss me, my songbird?” He was leading her through the forest. He would take her to the Maze the long way around. He was in no rush to die.
“For like, what, the two seconds I’m still alive after you?” She smirked, her tone sardonic. “Yeah. I will.”
That was something. He smiled. She had told him that she belonged to him. She had thanked him. It meant that by all fae law, she was his property, wish or no wish. Her soul was still her own, but she was his.
And that was enough.
That would have to be enough.
Nothing is ever enough. But here, at the end, he’d have to make an exception. He placed his other hand on hers where it rested on his elbow as they went for a leisurely stroll toward oblivion.
He had considered putting the iron collar back on her, as that was what he had promised Abigail he would do. But they were far outside the reach of the Seelie as they set foot inside the Maze.
And his songbird may have only precious seconds to fight. Seconds they could not waste on him removing the collar.