Page 245 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

He kissed my cheek repeatedly till I was squirming and almost giggling, and it somehow made tears flow heavier. “Let me hold you one last time.”

I nodded and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him. We stood like that for a while. Body to body, sharing a breath and a pulse, our hands tangled on the other. At least till he spoke.

“I, Kilian Henrik Castemont, free you from the vow made of blood, flesh and bone, ash, and soil. No longer bind you to our bargain.”

More warm hot tears poured out of me. “I, Snowlin Edlynne,” I whispered through trembling lips, “Castemont, free you from the vow made of blood, flesh and bone, ash, and soil. No longer bind you to our bargain.” The seal burned on my hand painfully, but there was another ache much fiercer in my chest.

“Give me my promise,” he whispered in my ear.

Right now, I would have given him everything and regretted nothing. “I promise you.”

“The paper is in the second drawer. Tear it, burn it. It’s yours.” He kissed my temple and pulled back. There was no last glance or a last goodbye before he left the room.

I pushed up and ran after him. “Kilian.”

He turned and opened his arms. And in a breath, I leaped in his hold. The boy who was going to marry me. The man who married me. My destiny. My ruin. “Goodbye.”

He shook his head, burying his face on the crook of my neck.

“Say it back,” I urged. “Say it back. Tell me goodbye.”

“Goodbye, love of mine.” He pulled back a little. “You know that I love you, right?”

“I do.”

His smile was watery as he let me go and backed away from me. “Good. Very good.”

When he turned his back to me, tears poured hot and burning.

I will do what I must do.

He didn’t turn back.

I will do what I must do.

Not even once.

I will do what I must do.

Chapter thirty-seven

Fulmen

Snowlin

The air was grave in my chambers, just as it had been for the past four days since Kilian and I had broken our bargain. Pen hadn’t said a single word and neither had Thora who’d crouched to a far corner inside my room that did not face the balcony. She’d glued her attention to my arm, likely over the missing band of bargain that no longer inked my skin.

My little redheaded servant peeled my jewellery off one by one, a routine that Kilian had done for the past few months. “At least you don’t look like a rabid wolf tackled you,” she huffed. “Marking a royal woman like that is so indecent.” Everyone around me had grown to adore Kilian. It wasn’t only I that had lost him. And from the way she secretly wiped a stray tear or two away, she’d lost him, too.

I ran a finger over a little faded mark on my collarbone and my eyes drew shut at the memory of his lips on my skin.

“Are we at war with Adriata now?” she asked quietly.

“Not yet, carrot. Not yet.”

But soon.

Mal faded on my balcony, striding inside my room with an unusual grimness in his face. He bowed his head to me and scanned the room for my sister. “Come, little bird, mother and the rest are setting down for dinner. I’ve asked for your favourite potato pie to be made.”