164. Nicholaus

164. Nicholaus
“Come to me, my love.”
The words barely leave my mouth before she steps into my arms. Her breath is steady but threaded with fear, and her eyes lifted to mine with a trust that feels too large for the space between us. The runes flare brighter beneath our feet, locking the circle, sealing us into the one place I have never wanted her to stand — the place where I must kill her to save her and our child. Her hands slip up along my chest, resting over my heart, as though she is memorising the stillness there before she gives hers to death. I lift her chin with both hands and kiss her once, making sure it is slow, lingering, and grounding. “You come back to me,” I whisper against her lips. “You hear me? You come back.”
Her breath shakes, but she lifts her chin and nods. “I will.”
I pull back only enough to see her clearly, every line of her face illuminated by the glow of the runes. I do not look away when I raise my wrist to my mouth. My fangs break through skin with a clean, practised motion, but the pain is nothing, less than nothing, compared to the weight of what I am about to do. My blood wells quickly, and I bring it to her lips.
“Drink,” I murmur. “Start slow.”
She hesitates for just a moment, and then her mouth parts, and she leans forward, taking the first taste of me with a small, uncertain pull. Heat slides through my arm as she drinks. It takes everything in me not to break. Her hands tighten in my shirt. Her breath steadies. She drinks a second mouthful, then a third, and I feel the change instantly, the bond warming, thickening and sharpening as my blood threads through her body. Her magic stirs beneath her skin, restless, reacting and adjusting. She exhales against my wrist, and the sound unravels something deep in my chest.
“That’s it,” I whisper. “You’re doing perfectly.”
She drinks deeper, her fingers tremble, and her eyes flutter half-closed. I slide my free hand into her hair and guide her forward until she is pressed to my chest, her cheek against my sternum, her arms circling my waist as she drinks what will carry her to death.
“You come back to me,” I whisper again, lowering my mouth to the top of her head. “We will raise our child. We will watch them run in these halls. I will teach them to rule. You will teach them to call storms. We will have the life we deserved long before this curse.”
Her breath hitches, and she drinks again. Her knees soften, and I hold her upright with both arms, rocking her gently as though soothing a fevered child.
“Echo,” I murmur into her hair, “you have no idea how much I love you. How long I waited for this moment... not the turning, or the fear, but the knowledge of a life growing inside you. Our life. Our miracle.”
Her fingers grip tighter, desperately clinging to me. Her heartbeat is slowing. Verrin stands just outside the circle, hands clasped behind his back, face carved into calm precision, but when our eyes meet, he gives the smallest nod. One that says, 'It is time.'

My stomach drops. I'm not ready for this. I lower my wrist from her mouth, letting the last streaks of blood smear across her lips, and she lifts her head to look at me. She's dazed, trusting and utterly unaware that the next breath she takes will be one of her last.
“Nicholaus?” she whispers.
I touch her cheek as my hand shakes, and I beg my body to remain strong for her. She doesn't need to see how much this breaks me. She needs me to be strong for her and for our baby.
“You're okay, my love,” I say softly. “That's enough. Your body will carry it the rest of the way.”
She nods once, whimpering every so softly. She believes me. Gods forgive me.
While my own heart shatters into a million pieces, I reach into my coat pocket and close my fingers around the knife I placed there hours earlier. The one I sharpened myself, even though I knew it would cut me far deeper than it ever could her. Her eyes follow the motion, and understanding hits her in a slow, soft wave. But she doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t plead. Doesn’t break. Instead, her chin lifts a fraction. “I trust you,” she whispers.
The words destroy me. Completely, utterly destroy me...
“Echo,” I breathe, my voice cracking, “I will bring you back. I swear it. No matter how far you fall.”
Her hand rises, sliding along my jaw before resting over my heart. “I know.”
I press my forehead to hers for one final moment — one final breath shared as she is. Then I step back half a pace, and her eyes hold mine. She doesn’t look away as I drive the blade into her chest. The sound she makes is small, and too loud all at once. It's a soft breath punched out of her lungs, more shock than pain, her eyes widening as the steel pierces through skin, muscle, the fragile cage around her heart. Her hand flies to the wound, pressing instinctively, her fingers trembling against the hilt. Then the bond detonates, exploding with fear, shock and pain, slamming straight into me from her. Her magic slams outward in a violent, uncontrolled wave, the air whipping around us in a sudden cyclone of wind and heat. The runes flare blinding white, struggling to contain it as vines burst from the cracks in the stone, lashing upward like living serpents. A spray of water explodes from beneath the outer ring, and flames spit violently from the lanterns. Her body arches and her eyes, her beautiful, terrified, desperate eyes, lock onto mine and with a look that threatens to drive me to my knees.
“Nicholaus—” she gasps.
“I’m here,” I choke out. “I’m here, my love. Let go. Just let go.”
Her breath shudders, and the bond flickers. Her knees buckle, and I catch her just as the final heartbeat trembles beneath my palm, one faint, fragile flutter...then there is silence. Mind numbing silence as her body falls limp in my arms and her magic screams before it dies out completely....And I hold her tighter, refusing to let her go as tears fall freely from my eyes down onto her skin.
"I'm so sorry, my love. Now, please, come back to me."