“ ’Tis a fine way to die, in your arms. A better death than I deserve for certain.” Against everything that was rational, his gray lips smiled. “And I have something I need to tell you—” “You’re not going to die, I won’t let you—” “I love you.” Layla’s breath caught. “What…?” His dying smile became something close to wistful. Or mayhap worshipful was the better word. “With all of my black and withered heart, I love you, my female. I deserve not the earth beneath your feet, nor the scent of you in my nose, and never the gift of your blood, but I…I am e’er grateful for the change that you
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