Would he even fight me, or would he just let me end him?
I trusted him.
And I betrayed Sebastian. For my sister, yes, but for Finn too. For his kingdom. For his chance to take back his throne.
I try to grip the dagger for a proper strike, but I can’t. My fingers refuse to tighten. So I run. I find the stairs and run up and up and up. I feel him watching me, but he doesn’t follow. My lungs and legs burn as I climb, but I’m driven by something more than oxygen, and I keep going until I smell the fresh air of day and see the light of the sun peeking in from a door beyond.
I scramble into the sunlight and collapse onto the pine needle carpet of the clearing. I can’t catch my breath, and it’s not just because my heart is pounding so fast or because the pain from the serpent’s bite and the gash in my gut are finally catching up with me.
Finn betrayed me, I betrayed Sebastian, and it all hurts more than I can handle.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“LADY ABRIELLA,” EMMALINE SAYS SOFTLY. “I’m sorry milady, but you need to wake up.”
I try to open my eyes, but it’s too hard. I roll over and put my pillow over my head. “No. I need to sleep.”
Emmaline squeaks, and I’m vaguely aware of her and Tess having a low conversation as sleep claims me again. “Just found her here.” “Bleeding too much.” “Find the prince.”
“Brie?” Sebastian’s voice. The smell of leather, salt, and sea. Sunshine on green grass. “Brie, wake up.”
I don’t want to open my eyes. I’m in a soft bed, wrapped in blankets. I can smell him all around me, and I don’t remember why, but I know I don’t want to leave this safe place.
“The healer needs to look at you,” Sebastian says softly.
With those words, everything slams into me with the clarity of someone pulling the curtain to reveal a sunny day. I don’t want to face the reality of what I’ve done. I can’t handle the thought of Sebastian hating me.
“Abriella, open your eyes.” Why does his voice sound so gentle? Doesn’t he know? His hand is warm and rough against my cheek, and I lean into it as he runs his thumb along my jaw. “You scared the shit out of me. You know that, right? Please just open your eyes so I know you’re okay.”
But I don’t want to open my eyes. I don’t want to end this dream where he still cares for me.
His soft breath flutters against my lips, and then his mouth is on mine, gentle and coaxing. My heart squeezes. Sebastian.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper against his lips, finally opening my eyes.
“Sorry?” His face is lined with worry, but he’s still bowing close to me, his eyes scanning my face again and again.
“For stealing the book. For deceiving you. I couldn’t tell you about my deal with Mordeus. I had to save Jas.” I close my eyes before adding, “I’m sorry I trusted Finn when you warned me I shouldn’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
The mattress shifts as he sits on the bed next to me. He pulls me into his arms, his touch and warmth such a relief that tears stream down my face. “Let the healer look at you, and then you can tell me everything.”
So I do.
* * *
We spend most of the night talking. I tell him about my deal with Mordeus, about the mirror and the book. I tell him about training with Finn and about the night I was drugged and Pretha dragged me away from the castle. I tell him about the crown and finding the trick in the bargain. I tell him about Finn’s catacombs and what a fool I’d been to believe that Finn wanted to help me.
Sebastian listens to every word without judgment, without any of the anger I deserve. And when I’m drained—when the story is told and my words are all gone, when my body feels weak with relief and exhaustion, I let him hold me and I fall asleep.
* * *
I don’t wake again until light is streaming into the bedroom. Sebastian’s still in bed with me, still holding me, watching me.
“Did you sleep at all?” I ask.
He nods. “A little. How do you feel this morning?”
I sit up in bed, rubbing my eyes. “Better.” Tilting my head, I study him. “Still a little surprised that you can tolerate the sight of me.”
“You were in an impossible situation, and you did what you had to do.” He strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. “My love isn’t so fickle that it fades under stress.”
I snuggle closer to him. “What would have happened to the crown if I’d died without knowing I wore it? Who would have gotten it if I’d never bonded to a faerie?”