My fate was set, but Carrow’s wasn’t. I could use the time I had left—before hell claimed me—to make sure that she was set up well for the future. No matter what I did, however, I couldn’t fall for her any more than I already had.
Easier said than done
Fortunately, I’d managed to meet everyone at the edge of the clearing at the assigned time. The sun was low in the horizon, and the sky was alight with a fiery sunset that made the world glow.
My gaze sought out Carrow. She stood next to Eve and Quinn. Eve was showing them a large piece of paper. She pointed, speaking. Mac and Seraphia sat on a broken old bench near the wall. They looked exhausted and pale, their eyes darkly shadowed.
Worry twisted inside me, an entirely unfamiliar feeling. Absently, I rubbed my chest.
Was this what becoming mortal felt like?
Bloody awful.
Carrow spotted me, and a smile broke out across her face.
Warmth flowed through me, no longer quite so unexpected and strange. I shook it off, tightening my grip on the small jar of Devonian, and strode over to join them.
“Did you get it?” Carrow asked.
“Yes.” I held it up.
Eve folded up the paper and tucked it in her pocket. She held out her hand. “Excellent. Shouldn’t take me long to make the potion.”
“Eve is going to perform the spell,” Carrow said. “She’s the most qualified, given her line of work.”
I nodded and handed her the jar. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Eve took the Devonian and went to join Mac and Seraphia. A small cauldron was set up on the end of their bench. Quinn joined them, but Carrow stayed at my side, her shoulder inches from mine. I could sense the heat of her, and I clenched my fists, resisting the desire to touch her.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent.” It did feel different being mortal, if I were willing to admit it. Which I wasn’t. Not to her, at least. She didn’t deserve that burden.
“I wish you’d consider what I offered,” she said.
Her blood. Regularly. My heart raced. “No. Even if I did, you heard what the Oracle said. It’s impossible.”
“We’ll find a way to fix this, Grey. I swear it.”
I nodded, though I didn’t believe it. Wouldn’t even cast my mind in that direction. I hadn’t known hope in so long that I couldn’t conceive it. She’d walked into my life, changing everything. Now, with my fate spelled out for me, that hope had been yanked away.
I wouldn’t seek it again.
I’d been alone in life, and I would be alone in the afterlife. It was fate.
I’d do what was necessary and keep moving forward, but hope was lost to me.
“Almost done,” Eve called. The cauldron in front of her smoked a pale yellow, giving off a scent of hay and flowers. There was no visible flame, but fae magic was unfamiliar to me. Maybe she didn’t need fire for brewing potions.
We watched in silence, though I desperately wanted to speak more to Carrow. Now wasn’t the time, however, and I didn’t know what to say, anyway.
Finally, Eve stood, the cauldron in her hands. Because she’d used no flame to brew the potion, it was cool enough to touch. It glowed, illuminating her face with a pale golden light.
She handed the cauldron to Quinn, who held it like it was his firstborn, carefully and securely. A bull could charge him, and he wouldn’t drop it.