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I may be better than a Mortal in her eyes, but I would never be an Elf.
“If he dies by my hand, then I shall die too.”
“Riven!” I roared, pulling the dual blades from my back. “If you’re still alive, you have three seconds to call off your hounds before I put them down.”
“Trying to remember why I haven’t stabbed you yet,”
“I thought you didn’t make promises?” he asked after my breathing had slowed to its regular rhythm. I froze. What had I said in my sleep? “I don’t,” I whispered after several breaths. “Not anymore.”
“You can’t sleep, Keera. Stay awake. I’m taking us to someone who can help you.” “I don’t need help,” I argued. “Now is not the time for your pigheaded independence,”
Death did not scare me. Death is the only certainty in this life.
He saw the scars. He knew the meaning behind them. And still he found beauty in the darkness of it, in my light and my shadows.
So many lives, so many stories in which I was the villain.
“If you ever get the chance, kill him,” he said through clenched teeth, his voice dark and dangerous. “And if you can’t, I’ll kill him for you.”
“I can take care of that for you,” he growled into my ear. “If you want me to.”
“Death is the only certainty in this life,”
