These Hollow Vows (These Hollow Vows, #1)(117)
The Potion of Life.
The room spins. My lids are so heavy, and it’s hard to stay here when I want to slip away. Light or dark. Dark or light. Lark’s words echo behind the pain.
Next time she dies, it has to be during a bonding ceremony.
I see three paths before you. In each, the Banshee’s call is clear.
The vial is cool against my lips. If I drink, this pain ends? If I don’t drink, death awaits?
“Please.” Sebastian’s voice is a ragged sob. “This is the only way.” He’s hurting, and that’s worse than these claws tearing through me. I’d do anything to ease his pain, so I part my lips. I drink.
The potion is silky on my tongue and feels like it sends me flying. Every swallow pushes another claw from my chest, lifts me away from this pain.
“Good girl,” he whispers. “You have to drink it all. That’s my girl.”
With my last swallow, the claws are gone, and warmth races along my veins, then heat, then— “Sebastian!”
My veins flood with fire, and I writhe in his arms. Please gods, not fire. Anything but fire.
“What’s happening?” he asks.
“This is the transformation,” an unfamiliar female voice says. “One cannot become fae without some pain.”
“Fix it,” he growls. “Do something to save her from this agony.”
“Magic has a cost,” the female says. “And so does immortality. She must endure or the potion will not take. She must endure or you lose her forever.”
“I’m here,” he whispers. “I have you.”
But he doesn’t. Nothing can save me from this pain. Time lurches forward, then stands still. I see my childhood in a flash, relive the fire in slow motion. Time teases me as seconds pass, fly by, then holds me captive as it stills again.
The world goes black again. I push away from consciousness and welcome the darkness, wrapping myself in a soft blanket.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
THE STARS HAVE NEVER LOOKED SO BRIGHT, the night sky never such a velvety black. Cool night air whips around my skin, brushing across my ears and cheeks like the lightest, sweetest kisses.
A tall male with broad shoulders and dark curls has his back to me, his face tilted up to study the stars, as if he too depends on them for answers.
“Finn?”
When he turns to me, I’m struck anew by his beauty. He’s wearing a black shirt, the top two buttons undone, and his soft leather pants are as dark as the night beyond. Some distant thought nags at me. I’m not supposed to be here with him, but I can’t remember why . . .
“I think . . .” I look around us. There’s no landscape. Only vast night sky. “Is this real?”
I lift a hand, skimming my fingers over the sharp point of my new, elven ears. “I died,” I whisper, remembering now.
“Died and were born anew. You’re sleeping now. The metamorphosis . . . it is never easy, but your mortal flesh fought it harder than most.”
Because I never wanted to be fae.
A reaction to the bond. Sebastian was prepared with the Potion of Life, prepared to save me when the bond ended my mortal existence. Nothing in the curse included danger to mortals who bonded with the Seelie. But how could he have known? As I try to wrap my mind around the thought, it falls away, lost in the never-ending darkness.
I look down at myself. I’m dressed in the green gown Jas designed, but there’s nothing beneath my bare feet. We’re floating with the stars. “This is a dream.” Even if the lack of landscape didn’t give it away, I’d know it was true because I feel none of the anger and frustration I know I’m supposed to feel toward Finn. I feel . . . peaceful.
He nods and rolls back his shoulders as he surveys the sky. “A dream. One of the best I’ve had in years.”
“I don’t want to go back.” I bite my bottom lip. “So much pain.”
“The pain will be gone when you wake.” His silver eyes look sadder than I’ve ever seen them. “Are you happy?”
“I’m not sure I know how to be happy. It’s been so long since I’ve had the luxury.”
“Now you have your whole immortal life to figure it out.”
I look around the starry night sky that seems to cradle us here—outside of reality, outside of time. Even my thoughts feel suspended in this moment. “What happened?”
“After you left my catacombs, I had Pretha get you back to the Golden Palace. I knew you wouldn’t go with us, but I couldn’t leave you alone and bleeding in the Wild Fae Lands.”
Finn. Finn was the one who got me back to safety. I feel no surprise at this news. “I mean what happened after that?”
“You’ll understand the rest soon enough.”
“More secrets,” I say, but I’m too relaxed for the words to sound angry.
“I am sorry—for what it’s worth. I never expected . . .” He squeezes the back of his neck. “I tried to find a way out of involving you. Even after your mother’s protection ran out and I knew where to find you, I searched for a way. I saw you in a cellar, saw you work until your fingers were bloody, paying your debts and caring for your sister. I searched and searched for another way. My father put me in an impossible position when he gave his crown to a mortal girl.”