I hadn’t left him. Not for one moment. I hadn’t released his hand even when I’d taken the dagger which had killed him and sliced my own flesh open with it. I hadn’t let go. And as that scar tingled along my palm, and the scent of smoke and cedar seemed to billow around me and my own vow to him buzzed through the air, I knew I never would. He was the destroyer of me. The ruination of the girl I’d been and the creator of the woman I had become. He was my one true love, without any help or hinderance from the stars. He was more than my Elysian Mate. He was more than my equal. He was my end. And I
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