Page 150 of Soulgazer

“Stop it.” Faolan grabs my hips, shaking me. “I won’t listen—dammit, Trouble, I can’t leave you to Kiara and the rest of the sharks.”

“Youcan, and you will.” My voice steadies as more tears slide down my face and neck. “Faolan, son of Barden and Iona, I renounce our bond and release you from your—”

My words cut off as Faolan yanks me forward and seals his lips to mine.

Longing bursts from the contact, chased by anguish, desire, determination, and resignation. As our kiss deepens, a future unspools beneath my lids—not the one I saw with the bone ring’s help, buthisimaginings.

Faolan’s fantasies ofme.

A rose-tinted sunrise over mountain peaks I’ve never seen. Nights bundled in the crow’s nest, teaching the stars to sing. My wrists tangled in ropes—hands open in sweet surrender, body arching off our bed. The scrap of red silk, blue ribbon, and leather cord that tangled our lives together, hanging always above our bed.

I gasp as Faolan spreads his fingers along my jaw, ensuring the soulstone mark meets my cheek. The touch opens such a clearpath between us that I cannot doubt his meaning. Cannot doubt what we both feel. His hold on my waist tightens as I break the kiss on a sob. “No. I’m supposed to let you go.”

His thumb scrapes my lips like the first time we met, and my eyes fly open to meet his—as blue as sea glass forged in fire.

“It’s too late, Saoirse. I’m already in love with you.”

Epilogue

Faolan

The day my luck runs out, swallowed by the knowing sea or torn from my lungs on the tip of a blade, it’ll be her name tangled in my last, dying breath.

Saoirse.

The stones by the pool’s edge gleam with freshly wrought moss and moody violets as kings and queens step into the heart of the island, taking its measure. Silver water flows into a basin of rock—the same water Saoirse’s blood commanded to flow. They didn’t see it swallow her up. They don’t know what it cost to awaken this place.

They only see the trussed-up version of my wife Kiara crafted last night.

Nessa jostles my arm when Maccus walks in, and I return a tight smile. Scratch at a spot on my back just above the knife hidden there—wince when it tugs at the threads keeping my shoulder together. An ugly red scar left by his own damned sword.

“Bastard.” Nessa spits out my own thought, and I snort. Mysmile only brightens when Kiara shoots a glare my way. I’d bow just to piss her off if Saoirse hadn’t looked up right then, stealing the very air I breathe.

She’s coiled her hair into dark waves that toss like the winter sea over her bare shoulders, skin as pale as bone. The dress Kiara stuck her in is unearthly, flirting with every hint of breeze. She’s pleated the flimsy fabric in a dozen places, holding the fabric tight enough to show her toes beneath the hem.

I bite down the urge to throw myself at her feet. Worship her the way she asked me to weeks ago, voice trembling so much I would have denied her if not for the unflinching truth in her gaze. Stars help me, I was lost from the first moment I held it. And what a powerful damnation that was for a man built on lies.

Yearning rests in the softness of her eyes now—a terrible kind of tenderness, wounded and wanting.

My breath comes out half snarl.

Kiara touches Saoirse’s arm, and it’s like time starts again when she looks away. This time when Nessa nudges me, I can’t laugh. Can’t even smile.

Saoirse is the dawn and dusk wrapped into one gorgeous creature, and I’m a man doomed.

“Descendants of the Daonnaí, rí and ríona of the Crescent.” Kiara’s voice cleaves every conversation, and it’s only then I notice the other head of dark curls tucked into the crowd. Aidan, standing pale and thin, a smooth box tucked under one arm.

Alone.

“Welcome to the Isle of Lost Souls.”

I feel Saoirse’s gaze like the brush of her fingers that night in the woods as she tried to cut me free. Daft bloody woman. How the hell was I supposed to stop loving the sea?

“For generations, we’ve sought these waters as our deadconsumed the land. Riotous, wayward spirits corrupted without flesh or solid stone to contain them. We’ve sacrificed hundreds to this pursuit, chasing rumors only to find storms or madness.”

“Should she be smiling like that?” Nessa mutters. This time, I don’t have to fake my grin.

“What, and give people the idea she has a heart?”