Page 241 of Vasmora

He squeezed harder, reminding himself not to break her delicate fingers. “No! Maevyth, listen to me! Come back to me!”

“She chose her prison the moment she consumed the fruit. Now, accept me.” Against the pinning of her arms, she raised her head and licked his jaw. “Take me. I want to feel you inside of me.”

Zevander held himself guarded, his jaw clenched to a flash of pain in his temples. “You are not my mate,” he gritted out. “She belongs to me. I claimed her!”

“You can’t claim her. She belongs–” The smile on her face faded, and eyes wide, she gasped. “Deimos!” She exhaled a sharp breath, a look of horror clawing at her expression. “It can’t be.” Shaking her head, she writhed beneath him. “Release me! I need to be with child! My legacy will not die!”

As she let out a pained cry, Zevander loosened his grip and pushed off her.

Her eyes rolled back into her head, her body convulsing. White foam leaked from the corner of her mouth.

“What’s happening?” It was a wonder his heart didn’t pound right through the bone, as fast and hard as it beat inside his chest. “Maevyth!”

Her eyelids snapped shut, and one long exhale passed her lips.

Head lolled to the side, she stilled.

“Hey.” Zevander gripped her chin and guided her face back to his. “Wake up, moon witch.” Pressing a finger to her neck produced no pulse, and when he ran his thumb over her bottom lip, he could feel no breath.

A lump of misery climbed from his chest to his throat, catching there as he fought to breathe, every inhale arriving choked.

No.

He slammed his mouth over hers, frantically blowing air into her lungs, and pressed down on her chest to get her heart pumping again.

He paused, listening for breath, then blew into her mouth again. Desperate. Consumed.

“Come on, Lunamiszka. Wake.” Again, he pressed against her chest, paused and listened.

His eyes burned with the threat of tears, but he blinked them back.

Focus.

“You need to wake up, A’miszhla. I’m here.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, desperate for that small flutter of breath she always let out before their mouths fused. “Come back to me.”

Not a twitch of the eyes, nor the faintest inhale.

Still, she didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

His gaze focused on her neck, searching for the tiny beat of her pulse. He didn’t dare look away for fear of missing it.

She lay still. So very still.

He lifted her into his arms and breathed deeply. Gone was the delicious scent that his body recognized as his mate. In its place was a deathly fragrance, one too sweet that burned the back of his throat.

Burying his face in her hair, he clenched his teeth, rage and misery tearing through him with vicious claws, every muscle shaking. “Please, moon witch. Don’t do this. Don’t leave me.”

He refused to break. Refused to accept this fate.

Taking hold of her hand, he pressed his palm to hers and summoned his flame one more time.

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

MAEVYTH

A few minutes earlier …