20. Niamh

Death hurts. It is slow to arrive, and oh… does it hurt. Not in the way I thought it would feel. Blissful and quick and eagerly accepted. I always knew I'd die anyway.

When and where didn't matter, just that it would happen, and I would welcome it. Yes. Then I could be free to dream and be and never have to live by fae rules ever again.

How selfish a thought. How greedy.

Rules provide order. Rules… provide pain and shame and hurt and disgust. The rules that governed my life were killing me anyway, what would real death be in comparison?

Welcome. It would be so very welcome.

Not now. Oh, not now. I struggle and suffer, and everything hurts. I struggle and suffer but I refuse to give in. Not yet.

Caspian made another promise to me—and he has shown an inability to break his promises, however small. However meaningless and insignificant he finds them.

He promised me one more thing, and I can't let it slip away.

So, I breathe and hurt. Hurt and breathe. I listen to him curse me, and growl and threaten to maim and kill.

"I'm going to kill you one day," he tells me, his voice soft and sweet. His voice loud and angry. "I am going to be the one to kill you, so don't you dare die."

I won't. He makes me resist fate itself, and I hate him for that. If only I knew it was this easy. If only I knew that strength could be found in the voice of a beautiful, broken, twisted male vamryre.

I would have sought him out myself. I would have bared my body to him sooner.

I would have given him any and everything.

But I wouldn't ask for the mortal realm first.

I'd ask for his power. His strength. His ability to make me resist and break the bonds that have bound my life for decades.

But those are selfish thoughts.

For now, I will contend with trying not to die. Holding on. Breathing on. Gasping…

"Niamh!" He flicks his tongue against my forehead. "Stay awake. Don't you dare fall asleep."

Or die. I can't go to sleep or die.

So, I try not to do both. I try even as my lungs fill up and air becomes a rare, valuable thing to get a hold of. I try.

For him, I try…

And he is enough. It's so strange to realize as much. I'm feeding off his energy. His strength. The more he touches me, strokes through my hair, and presses his mouth to my cold flesh.

The easier it is to cling to life. I could outlast death for an eternity like this, with him on top of me. Beside me. Inside me.

I could survive anything.

But then he pulls away, and I struggle to see why. The air becomes too heavy. Impossible to inhale. My vision turns cloudy, tinged with inky black. I'll die if I can't hold on.

If I can't feed off his nearness and resilience, I'll die.

I'm dying…

I'm already dead…

"Heal her, now." Caspian's voice is a frail whisper. A bellowing shout. It echoes all the way back to the other realm, where even the Lord Master can hear it.

I am sure of it.

He speaks as though he intends the entire world to hear it. Death itself.

"Heal her?—"

"I'm not sure I can," a new voice cuts in, clashing with his. Soft and sweet and delicate. Such a nice voice. "What the hell did you do to her, vampire? Jesus!"

"Heal her, you foolish mundane," Caspian replies in a heady growl. "Or I will rip out your fucking throat?—"

"Save your threats," the second figure replies. A woman, I think. Her voice is so beautiful. So lilting and strong. Different from the accented speech of the fae. Different.

"I can't do a damn thing to help her with you scowling over me! Wait over there. Now, vampire. Or I will slip a poison into her veins before you could even think to stop me."

"Heal her," Caspian snaps.

"Keep silent and let me think."

I'm drowning again. The soft fingers that prod my forearm don't have the power to yank me back like Caspian's do. Still… they are very gentle. Very kind. Very warm.

"I got here just in time, it looks like," the woman admits, sounding closer. Nearby. Above me. "She's barely hanging on. I'm surprised you didn't drain the last drops out of her. Now move! Let me work in peace."

In peace.

I so very much long for peace.

Or at least I did.

Now, I don't.

I long for chaos and dancing red and clashing ivory. I long for one last glimpse of those fiery, hungry eyes.

I wish I could grant him his only wish.

I'll let him eat me. Gobble up what's left of my soul.

I'd let him be the one to kill me if it was what he wanted…

As long as he stayed.