Sabine stumbled back and I drove into her again, forcing her down. She hissed when she landed on her back. I jerked my elbow down on her face and blood burst on my cheek. Viscous satisfaction filled me, and I angled to grip the knife stuck in her chest.
A slight breeze brushed my face when I almost had it. The force of her hand cracked across my face and I landed several feet away. The only good thing was that she’d thrown me in the direction of my weapon. Grunting, I shoved onto my arms, intending to go for it.
She stood over me, panting with hate. Another knife flipped through the air and landed in her arm. Roark must have gotten free from her control. With her distracted, I fumbled for my dagger a foot from me. She screamed at Roark, whose eyes dared her to do her worst. She changed course and rushed him, jerking the knife out of her arm and wildly slashing out. He moved swiftly, but it managed to slice his bicep as she tackled him to the ground.
I knew I only had moments before she charged me. She wouldn’t kill Roark for the very reason that it would kill her, but me? That was her single handed goal.
Gripping the hilt, I ran at them and thrust it into her back, aiming for her heart. I briefly encountered pressure, and then it sunk in. At the same time, she brought the knife down and stabbed Roark in the stomach. Heart stuttering in my chest, I yanked the knife up through her body with all the Fae strength I had.
She cried out and slumped forward, the large gash in her torso seeping blood. Roark pushed her off him. Flopping to the side, he coughed and vomited, expelling thick, black goo. When he stopped heaving, he fell limply and didn’t move.
I was on my feet in seconds. I ran to him. There was iron running through his system, spidery inky lines spread from all wounds. Barely daring to breathe, I fell to my knees beside him, hands trembling over the injury.
A tingle built in my spine, and I knew Roark felt it, too, because he looked up, his eyes wide. “The dark meld broke,” he rasped. My breath shuddered. How was that possible? There was a way to break the dark meld. Was it because I was Roark’s actual mate? Thoughts flitted through my head as I tried to rationalize everything that had just happened.
Before I could say anything, the sharp tingling reached every part of my body, and I doubled over. The sweetest pain coursed through me. It prickled through every facet of my body moving and spreading at a rapid pace. Time ceased to exist and I wasn’t sure how long it flowed, but when I came to, I looked up at a shocked Roark. He kneeled next to me, smoothing my hair in a comforting rhythm. It must not have been long because the strain was barely starting to show on his face. The inky lines had reached his neck.
“What’s happening?” I gasped.
I curled into a fetal position as a rush filled me. An influx of energy rippled over my skin. Soon, the tingles turned pleasurable, and I squeezed my lips to keep in my moan. Just as quickly as it started, the rush subsided.
I blacked out again, and when I was cognizant, I was on my hands and knees. I looked over to see Roark barely holding himself up with shaky arms. A soft smile was fixed on his lips as he stared at me, his eyes dull and glazed over from pain.
I jerked next to him and grabbed his shoulders. The poison had crawled up to his chin, and he was so still, I worried he was dead. He groaned, and that was the best sound ever. A sob escaped me.
“Roark?”
His smile was pained, and he told me everything in one look. He was dying.
My heart stuttered. I heard it, and I gasped. I hadn’t had that good of hearing. Then I realized I held Roark upright with little effort. Another sob built, and my fingers dug into his flesh.
“Shh, my love. You did it. Magic is unbound.”
My head jerked back. That was the feeling that had swept through me? That delicious thrill?
“You’re still alive?” Tentative hope bloomed as I realized this. He hadn’t died, and magic was back? He answered my unasked question.
“Killing Sabine must have fulfilled it since she had bound our life forces.” He grunted as he moved, his grimace conveying his pain.
“Heal the poison,” I rasped and saw him wince. I looked at my hands, and they had clawed into his shoulders. I softened my hold with an unsteady breath.
“I can’t,” he said weakly. He blinked slower than the last time, and my throat ached.
“Why?”
“Magic never built inside me. I used it as it came.” He shuddered and closed his eyes. “It’s not a never-ending well.” His last words held that sardonic edge.
He was sarcastic. Now?
“Bu-but…” I reached up to cup his face with a trembling hand.
“It’s okay,” he said weakly, and his chest rattled. “Will you do something for me?” Tears streamed down my cheeks as I nodded. “If what she said was true, will you find them?”
I knew what he was asking without him having to explicitly say it—his siblings. I wanted to tell him no, that he could find them himself. That he needed to survive. But I knew it was just denial trying to make sense of all this. I didn’t want this to be happening. The lost opportunities, the potential, it hurt more than anything else could have.
I shuddered and closed my eyes as I reached for that offending dagger sticking in his stomach and pulled it out. A flare of pain rose
