Page 156

Beyond my control.

Callie’s eyes widen, like she felt the balances tip as well.

I gather her body closer to me, rocking her in my arms, my head bowed over hers.

I’ve never fallen apart in front of Callie. Not even when she was at the mercy of Karnon. But now I do.

Because this is the real thing.

“Till darkness dies, love,” she says, her voice faint.

“No.” I’m shaking my head. “Even then,no.” The night could end, and she’d still be mine.

Always mine.

Her eyes slip shut.

“No,” I say more emphatically.

Where is Temper?

I glance up, frantically looking around. The sorceress could heal her. But finding her and flying her back here would take minutes at best.

Minutes I do not have.

I look back down at Callie. My mate is fading so fast. Too fast.

This is the moment I’ve dreaded since I met Callie. The moment I lose her.

I’d rather do something unforgivable to keep her alive than let her slip quietly into death.

Something unforgivable…

“Mara, where is the wine? The—the lilac wine.”

The Flora queen looks up from her own dead mate, her eyes dull. “The royal cellar,” she mumbles, as if in a trance. And then her attention returns to the Green Man.

The royal cellar. I’ve been there several times over the centuries. The wine wouldn’t take minutes to locate and bring back—it could be done in mere seconds. But the cost of such a solution—it’s a steep one.

Fuck the ramifications.

It takes an instant to leave Callie’s side and materialize there, then several precious moments to locate the telltale purple glass bottles.

Grabbing one, I disappear before returning to my mate’s side.

With a swift jerk, I snap the narrow neck of the bottle clean off. Already I catch faint whiffs of the wine.

I promised my mate that I’d protect her from this side of myself, the selfish, immoral side.

I lied.

The thing is, I’m both a fairy and the son of a tyrant king; I’ve descended, undoubtedly, from demons. Wickedness is in my blood.

For once I will give in to the depraved thoughts that revolve around my mate.

Callie’s face is ashen, her skin already cold. Her pulse is a weak, fluttery thing.

I’ll take my mate’s mortality from her just as I have always imagined.