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“No,” he said sharply. No room for argument. Just like always. “You deserve to live, Talwyn. Youwilllive.”

She lifted a shaky hand, laying it atop the one pressed to her side. “I am sorry I did not love you better.”

“You have decades to make it up to me,” he said, his hand sliding around her head to smooth back her hair. “Help is coming.”

She didn’t want one of the last things she said to him to be how there was no helping her. Not anymore. So instead she said, “I’ll meet you on a battlefield beyond the Veil, Az.”

Darkness closed in around her as breathing became a little harder. There were these sharp stabbing pains in her chest with each inhale, and her exhales felt murky and stilted. Like the air couldn’t get all the way out.

But then the darkness receded.

Not darkness.

Shadows.

Scarlett stood before her, a hand on Azrael’s shoulder as she dropped down beside him.

That was good. That his queen had come to be with him when he faced this. That he wouldn’t be alone.

Scarlett looked down at her. A queen with every right to hate her with all that she was. A descendant of the god of endings and a goddess of her own making.

She held up a hand, darkness crackling with embers of white. There was blood smeared across her face and hands. Her spirit sword was sheathed down her back. Her lips were moving, but Talwyn couldn’t hear her. That was fine. She wanted the last voice she heard to be Azrael’s.

Az was nodding, and then Scarlett’s silvery, glowing gaze connected with Talwyn’s. Her features were softer than Talwyn had ever seen them as she said, “You’ve given enough, Talwyn.”

Darkness engulfed her, but it wasn’t the darkness of the After. Or maybe it was. She really had no way of knowing in the chaos that danced around her. A sudden flare of bright white light had her slamming her eyes shut, and when she blinked them open, Azrael was hovering over her.

“Talwyn?” There was strained hope in his voice that she had never heard before. Fingertips brushed along her cheekbone. “Say something.”

“If you followed me to the After, I am going to kill you,” she croaked.

Azrael huffed a breath of laughter, bringing his brow to hers. His eyes fell closed, and this close, she realized there were tear tracks cutting through the grime on his face. She lifted a hand to cup his cheek, but froze when she saw the black Mark on the back of her hand.

Her right hand.

Directly in the center. No bigger than a coin.

“What is this?” she demanded, trying to push herself up.

“Go slow,” Azrael ordered, helping her into a sitting position.

Scarlett was still here, standing back and giving them this moment.

“What is this?” Talwyn repeated, turning her head to look at Azrael’s hand, where a matching Mark stood out against his brown skin.

“It is not a twin flame Mark,” Scarlett said. “Not even a goddess can restore that. But it is a binding Mark of a sort. I didn’t know if it would work. I sort of had to combine some elements from other Marks to make this one, but…” Her eyes darted to Azrael. “He wanted to risk it.”

“What is the cost?” Talwyn demanded.

Scarlett gave her a small, soft smile. “It binds your lives together, Talwyn.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Absolutely not. His life does not get cut short because of me. No.”

“It was a cost I am willing to pay, Talwyn,” Azrael said, trying to guide her face to his.

“No,” she cried again. “No, no, no. This is not—”

“I may have taken some liberties with the creation of this particular Mark,” Scarlett cut in, and they both turned back to her. She was studying Tarek’s corpse as if it were a fine piece of art as she continued. “It bindsyourlife to his, Talwyn. As long as Azrael lives, you cannot die.”