The pain was so bright it fractured the universe.
Someone screamed. Loud and yet so far away, like light from a distant star.
The dagger in her hand clattered to the ground.
Di watched, eyes warming to red again, as he pulled the sword out. The stench of iron filled the air. She pressed a hand against her pain, and it came away slick. Her stomach was wet and warm with crimson—the color of his hair.
Her blood? But she couldn’t die. Not yet.
She’d never thought she was afraid of death. She thought it was something she’d be ready for when the time came. But now its cold fingers squeezed around her heart.
And she couldn’t tell it no.
As she tried to breathe, a starburst of pain rushed up through her torso. Her head spun as though she was dancing. Dancing—an orchestra. Whirling around the ballroom. Crimson hair and an honest smile. All she ever wanted was to dance with him again, but there was no music.
Everything was so quiet.
Blood coated the back of her tongue. It tasted like iron. She turned her eyes back to him. But she did not recognize the monster staring back.
He let her go, and without anything to keep her steady, she fell.