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His throat was ragged from disuse. It made the sentence sound ever more sinister.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I did.”
“At least we’ve continued the tradition of me waking up bound and dying after.”
Silence hung thick and heavy—smothering me. A thousand apologies sprung to my lips, but none of them were adequate. What was I supposed to say?I’m sorry. I did it because I realized too late that I love you, and realized even later that you’ll never love me back.
“Alisdair, you have every right to be angry with me. If you let—”
He sliced in, “You say it’s been two weeks?”
“I— Uh— Yes,” I got out. “The attack was two weeks ago, and much has happened since then. Including me realizing that I—”
“Then, you can go.”
I stilled. “Excuse me?”
“You can go, Princess. Send for Aeris and I’ll have her pack up your belongings and prepare the carriage myself.”
My lips trembled. I tried to stop my voice from doing the same. “Alisdair, please.”
“Two weeks I’ve lain here, little bird. Two weeks I haven’t chased, caught, and claimed you. Fourteen nights and fourteen times I’ve broken our marriage vow.”
“I don’t care about that!”
“You care. All you’ve done since you stood up on that altar is fight to be free of me, and now you finally are. Look for yourself,” he said. “The rune that kept you bound to me and Lumenfell is gone.”
I twisted, staring down at my ankle. Alisdair was right. He was right and I hadn’t even noticed. The rune that mangled my leg whenever I left his side was no more—merely a forgotten blemish on a pale, untouched ankle.
“So go,” he hissed, striking my heart through. “It’s what you always wanted. Congratulations, little bird. The cage is open. You’ve finally gotten your wish.”
I swallowed through needles, my whole body shaking. Despite my deep-seated survival sense telling me to stay away, I moved closer to him.
I took his hand.
“Alisdair, I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I made a terrible mistake—first by hurting you, and then again when my lies and bluster actually convinced you I wanted to be anywhere but by your side. But after what I’ve done, I know what I want doesn’t matter much anymore.
“What is your wish, my husband? Do you want me to leave?” I kissed his bandaged fingertips. “Are you telling me to?”
“I am telling you to leave.”
Nodding, I set down his hand and scurried away—racing before to door before he sensed my tears.
“But my wish...”
I halted, hand closed on the knob.
“...is that you never leave me, nightmare woman. Because if I knew how to be without you, I would’ve run slower.”
I dropped my forehead against the wood—smiling so hard and wide I thought my face would break. Only when I trusted myself not to do something embarrassing like burst into tears, or tackle a sick man and have my way with him, did I turn and face him.
“Well, if you insist,” I teased, returning to his side. “I’ll stay.”
I CLIMBED THE STAIRSthe next day, loaded down with fresh bandages and healing ointment. With Alisdair awake and fighting back with magic, he was healing twice as fast, but Soulstitcher insisted we keep it up until he was out of the woods.
Turning the corner, we locked eyes.
The fox boy blinked at me. Clutched in his grip was a jeweled cane that belonged in a display case in the grand hall.
