Stealing Tink (Lost Girl #5)

Chapter 43

He and I are alone, and he’s deepening the kiss, one hand on my back, the other on the back of my neck, pulling me in close.

“I love you,” he whispers into my mouth.

I don’t whisper it back.

He grunts, and it’s the surprised sort, pained.

My right hand is wet, warm.

He pulls away from the kiss, his hand going for his side, just underneath his ribcage. Blood pours from the wound, and he sways on his feet.

I stand above him, hands shaking, tears pouring from my eyes, blood dripping from the dagger in my hand.

When the Nomad takes his last breath, it feels as if my heart has been torn in two.