Lor looks up at me, and I flip her hand over, touching her ring.

“Remember when I gave this to you? Do you remember what I said?” I ask, and she nods, her mouth pressing together.

I will follow you until the very end.

“I still mean every word.”

“I know,” she whispers. “I’ve never doubted you or your intentions for one moment.”

Then I press a kiss to her forehead. I don’t know what else to say. I wish this weren’t happening. I wish I could take her away from this. All I’ve ever wanted is to protect her, and I feel like I’ve failed at every turn.

She seems to understand and nods.

“Get some rest,” I say again.

Then she lays her head on my shoulder as we watch night descend inside our prison.

CHAPTER 67

LOR

Neither one of us really sleeps. As the light fades, the temperature drops, and Nadir and I cling to one another for warmth, making use of the threadbare blanket Herric provided. The wounds in my stomach start to heal, and the gash on Nadir’s shoulder looks better after a few hours of rest. At least Herric can’t stop our Fae healing.

Still, my stomach is empty and I’m exhausted from lack of sleep. In the hazy place between awake and asleep, I literally dream of sleep. Of a quiet room in a quiet cabin somewhere on top of a mountain, surrounded by miles of softly falling snow, where I can rest for days and wake up only to feed myself. I imagine Nadir next to me, his long dark hair spread over the pillow and the sheet tugged down to reveal his bare, chiseled torso.

I imagine curling up to him and basking in the warmth of his skin as sunlight falls over our bodies. I smell coffee and freshly baked bread that we share together under the covers before we make love until we fall asleep and then do it all over again.

I want it so much I can taste it.

“Lor,” he whispers as his mouth presses to the curve of my throat and to the dip of my collarbone. To the soft place below my navel. I snuggle deeper into soft white sheets, sighing in contentment.

“Lor, wake up.”

My eyes peel open, and reality crashes back in when my surroundings come back into focus.

“It’s starting to grow light out,” he says. I push myself up and rub my eyes as I roll my neck.

“Did you sleep at all?” I ask, noting the dark circles under his eyes and his pale cheeks.

“Not really. But I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” I reply. Neither of us is fine.

“No, but what are we going to do about it?”

I press my mouth together and shake my head, trying to hold in my tears.