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“Look at me.” His voice was no whisper, but a command that seized her attention. “I want you looking at me when I touch you.”
“You are mine.” The words were not possession, but a promise. “For as long as you’ll have me, you are mine, Signa Farrow. I will burn this world to cinders before I let anyone take you from me.”
“My love for you is not confined to time, nor fate,” she continued. “It is a love that I will hold with me for an eternity, which is why I am not afraid. I swear to you that I will always be yours, even when I am not.”
“Because you never specified who had to be your bride.” Blythe smiled as she spilled her blood upon the tapestry’s golden threads.
BLYTHE HAWTHORNE HAD BESTED FATE FOUR SEPARATE TIMES.
He made an oath with you. Death’s voice was lighter than she’d heard in ages. For as long as he lives, he cannot bring harm upon Blythe Hawthorne.
“You have no idea what you’ve just done,” he snarled, poised to kill. Blythe did not back away, but instead pressed against his chest as she tipped her head to sneer at him. “On
“Don’t worry, darling.” Blythe laid a kiss upon his cheek, leaving a press of rouge. “You’ll have the rest of your life to make it up to me.”
“There are no false pretenses between us. I may live my life however I’d like, and all pressure of courting will be gone. Everyone will even believe I’m a princess.”
“Because you were willing to help me.” The answer came too easily, in a voice that was too light. “You deserve to live, too, Signa. I may not understand everything, but I know Percy was the reason I was dying. I know that you saved me from him.”
“Blythe can see you.” “A side effect from nearly dying, perhaps,”
“We would appreciate if you at least kept better company. The man was far too bright for my taste.” “There was another who glowed, too, just like the lady’s maid,”
“You found her.” He scooped up the poker once more, laughing as it sizzled against his palm. With his free hand he grabbed Signa, pulling her into his embrace. His tears were cold as they fell onto her shoulder, his voice soft as snowfall as he whispered, “After all these years, you truly found her. It would seem, Little Bird, that fate always has a way of working itself out in the end.”
Signa had seen Life’s memories, but every time they came to her, Blythe had been there.
“Let them figure it out on their own time. Theirs is a story in which we should not interfere.”
For the sake of Percy’s child, it was Byron who’d poisoned the duke. And though the truth of it weighed upon her chest like a brick, there was nothing to be done. It wasn’t as though they’d ever get a confirmation out of Byron, and even if they did, what would it matter? They’d chosen to protect Eliza. Now they’d have to do the same for him.
Again the rustle of laughter sounded, and this time Blythe saw Death’s shadows ensnare Signa as he whispered, “And now the show begins.”
