The Second Death of Locke (The Hand and the Heart, #1)

by V.L. Bovalino

“Hold on,” he said, not turning. He didn’t need to. She was so closely attuned to his voice, so firmly aware of him, that she was able to hear it even as a whisper in the middle of battle.

She has my eyes and her mother’s power, and she will not stop screaming, no matter what any of us do. We are all, predictably, besotted.

It was always meant to be this, she could see now, looking up at Kier and watching him look back. The two of them together, dying like this, so close that years from now, someone would come back to this place and find their bones locked together.

She sat back, watching the light of the flickering candle. Her heart stirred with the anxiety of it, and something like hope.

What a beautiful thing it was, to watch him grow older. To watch him live.