One thought kept drumming through Alaric's mind. This was his fault.
Loma had waited to give up her life to Death because of him. She'd told him she would know when the time was right and wouldn't stay, but he should have encouraged her to go right away instead of selfishly wanting to hold her in his arms for even one more night.
Yamm had appeared before Alaric could even settle her back on the mattress. His antlers had turned to obsidian, the tines sharpened to points. One look, and his eyes blazed crimson with fury at what Ciprian and his poison had done to her.
"I don't know what happened." Alaric's hands darted over Loma's body, unsure of where to land. His words poured out fast and jumbled, water spilling through cracks in a vessel that could no longer hold it, no matter how sturdy the vessel usually was. "She was fine when I left. She insisted. I was only gone for ten minutes. She insisted…and now…"
