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Alora shuddered a sharp breath like broken glass.

Garrik didn’t lift his head, didn’t open his eyes. He only spoke in a tortured whisper. “No. Every last drop is mine.”

They didn’t need to exchange words—only silence. The language they both knew too well. It was in the screaming silence that their hearts always spoke the loudest. And that was enough.

Before Alora knew what she was doing, her arms weaved around his neck until his gray hair was pressed into her shoulder.

Garrik accepted her embrace without hesitation now. His corded arms encompassed her ribs, extending around her back until he pulled her in. When her legs wrapped around him, he pulled her impossibly close. Until his heartbeat slowly—unevenly—pulsed against her own.

Taut muscles spasmed on his back, and she pulsed warmth from her hands into him once more. Garrik cursed under his breath. “Please, speak to me. I need to know … to hear it … it is not”—Alora felt him shudder as his grip tightened—“her. Please.”

“I’m here. I’m not leaving,” Alora breathed, allowing the warmth of her arms to pulse across anywhere her skin touched. “I’m always here.”

What else could she say? He was the one who had helped pick up so many of her shattered pieces. And now, the one who always took care of everyone else was shattering underneath her.

“You didn’t ask for any of this.” Alora’s throat cracked. “None of this was your fault.”

Her High Prince’s breathing fell shallow when her fingers laced through his hair. She heard him whisper again, “You are so warm.” Whispered as if it was all he could think. That line he hovered on of his past and the present. The only thing holding him there.

In gentle strokes, her fingers brushed circles within his silken hair. She never noticed how it shined against the light. At least ten hues of silver and gray streaked through it. It was enchanting.Beautiful. And his scent… Intoxicating. Hints of flowers and citrus, vanilla and oak on his breath. The metal and leather scent. It drew her in more times than she could admit.

Then, his voice went soft and low. In a way that longed to mask the words spoken but desperately pleaded to uncage them. “I crave death like a dying animal craves the life that is fading.”

Alora jolted back at the bite of his words. She pulled his face from her shoulder. Lifeless, glassy eyes pierced through her entire inner being and collided with every shattering piece of her soul. The same dullness she’d gazed upon when he was locked in another world; those same eyes stared at her now.

Warm hands rubbed his cheeks. “Show me why.”

“No. Let me enjoy this. You. If you would allow me—a fucking monster—to stay.”

Darkness swirled in his eyes, and she thought she could hear thousands of pained screams echoing from them. Alora brushed his hair from his forehead. A sheen of icy sweat coated it.

“You’d have to fight me to leave out that door tonight. You’re not a monster for what you’re forced to do. I see it in your eyes, High Prince.I see you.” Garrik’s eyes darkened as he meant to pull his head away when she held strong. “You hear me?I see you. Not whatever happened to you. Not what the stories say.Not whatshedid to you. Elysian will know who you are and what you’ve done for them. We will make them understand. We will.”

“I am a plaything, Alora. A savage beast. I will never be anything more. Elysian deserves better. You all deserve better.” The dancing glow of the lantern cast dark shadows over his cheekbones. “And I am so tired.” Liquid-lined eyes drained of life as he added, “So fucking tired.”

In all the words he didn’t say, she knew what he meant. He fought every day for them, mostly in silence. Hidden behind an illusion of impeccable physical strength, beaming hope, and unimaginable power. A weight that, with anyone else carrying it, would’ve left them with a broken spine. But Garrik. He was the image of unwavering vigor. A force of shining assurance in a world that had been shrouded by evil for far too long. And he stood in the gap. He shouldered the burdens of Elysian. He faced them first, walking through doors so he could guarantee everyone behind him would make it out alive at a great cost to his own life.

Yet somehow …

He believedtheydeserved better?

Alora’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, embracing him tight. “Until that day when you see thatno onecould ever replace you … one day at a time, High Prince. You’ve made it this far. One more day. And then tomorrow, tell yourself the same. We take this one more day, every day.”

They were silent for ages. Holding each other, feeling each other’s heartbeats. Then Garrik’s shoulders fell as he whispered, “One more day.”

“One more day,” she repeated.

Her fingers trailed to the back of his stiffened neck. Massaging into the sore, knotted muscles. Dragging her fingers down his shoulders and upper back until she felt his body relax and head sink.

She smiled, loving that he very well, if only for this moment, found some comfort. Some tenderness. That she was able to be his solace and give back some of the safety he had offered her so many times before.

Garrik breathed a calmed moan.

Alora couldn’t help but love that sound, too.

But at the same moment, her heart began to split.

Because all this time that she had been fighting …