I didn't sleep.
Not even close.
I lay in the dark beside Azryth, listening to his breathing, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through the binding, and tried very hard to do what I'd told him to do.
'Don't think about it.'
But I failed spectacularly.
The prophecy kept circling back in my mind, over and over, like a song stuck in my head except infinitely worse. *The fractured key and the bound lord will either lock the gates or tear them open.* Lock or tear, save or destroy, and hanging in the middle of those two options like a knife's edge: *all hangs on whether love proves true or love proves false.*
I believed our love was real. I did. When I'd said it earlier, I'd meant every word, our love is true, we'll be fine.
But that was before three AM, when the rest of my brain decided to have a full-on mutiny.
What if it's not enough?
The thought crept in quiet and cold, and once it started, it wouldn't stop.
