Page 59 of King’s Kismet

“Ignis.”

My vision faded to nothing as a surprised gasp lodged in my throat. I knew this death would be painful, but it didn’t hurt like I thought it would.

All I could imagine was her face floating through my mind as my lungs ached for air. My heart squeezed as the beating ceased to continue, though it wasn’t death tearing the organ in two.

I cared for her.

Maybe even loved her.

Why did I ask her to do this?

Now, she was left with my body, and I hadn’t prepared her for what to do afterward. Hadn’t told her what I’d found about forcing the mate bond in dire circumstances. Hadn’t told her I might not make it, but the possibility was worth keeping her safe.

I should have asked Miller and Stone to do the spell, even though I knew I would absolutely not make it out of that transaction alive.

Pain lanced through my chest, pouring into my limbs, rushing through my veins. It burned as the inferno should have, but I was dead long before I could feel the heat.

Cold flames blistered my fingertips, tingling as it climbed to my elbows, my shoulders, my neck. If I could arch my back from the agony, I would… But death left me motionless. Only basking in the regret and guilt of my decisions.

Threads tickled my chest, and I envisioned the bonds I’d made with my family and friends fleeing me, running from my selfishness. My stupidity.

The one bond I should have made, should have focused on, was the one bond that wouldn’t have to escape the claws of my unworthiness.

If I could breathe, I would scream at myself.

But maybe she was the lucky one…

I wouldn’t have been good for her. To her.

The memories of Sloane swam in my mind. Her warmth heating my fingers, her rasping voice shouting at me for my choices.

“How dare this bastard die on me!”

I chuckled at the dream-like sound of her anger, wishing I could feel that ire pointed at me just one more time.

She had told me she was a curse, a punishment, though she was so much more. She was a reward I would never deserve, even if I wanted her with every burning fiber of my being.

And oh, how I burned.

The pits of Hell opened to welcome me home, the rage and chaos swallowing me whole.

Only, the tiny circles across my chest didn’t ache, as if concentrated rain poured over my heart, washing my skin before they removed the organ to recycle it.

Hopefully, they gave it to someone who would use it better than I had…

I’d missed my opportunity.

As if on cue, life-shattering agony like I’d never felt speared through my chest. This was what death should have felt like all along. Somehow, it was yet another thing I’d fucked up.

I thought of Sloane’s mischievous smirk, the way she shivered when I whispered in her ear, her laughter as she caused trouble. If this was the end, I would only focus on her. The little I knew of her, the iceberg of experiences she kept hidden… All the things I would miss about her, would miss seeing her accomplish.

My head throbbed with the heartache of leaving her. Each beat of the drum in my mind felt like a car crash, the thunder of charging giants, the collapse of buildings.

Emotions plowed through me, though they had started as a small trickle… A fissure in a reinforced dam right before the crack became too massive to seal closed, wiping out the town below.

Frigid ice pierced my lungs, forcing me to react.

Death had played with me for too long, expecting me to weep over my losses instead of dwelling over my mistakes.