Chapter 46 #2
Maeve listened to his heightened breathing. The High Lord, typically so relaxed and carefree, stood in front of her with a pained expression.
“No,” she managed, a shake evident in her voice.
“You are going to Inherit the power of Aterna from me.”
He said it like it was already decided! Like she didn’t have a say. And nothing pissed Maeve Sinclair off more than being told what she was going to do.
Maeve shook her head. “I said no,” she repeated, now fully in denial.
She stepped away from him, giving him her back as she looked down at Maxius.
She expelled a breathy laugh that was the beginning of hysteria.
“No.” She laughed harder, her head dipping back.
“Absolutely not.” Her tongue licked across her teeth, and she rounded back on him, her eyes narrowing. “How long have you known?”
So many steps forward ruined by another lie!
Regret dripped from his eyes, from his frown. “Since you stood behind me with those delicately deadly fingers at my throat on the day Malachite instructed me to bend the knee.”
My, my. What a surprise, he had said that night.
Reeve continued. “I felt it surge through every bit of my Magic.”
“But that means—”
“Yes,” said Reeve. “You will consume my life force.”
She shook her head. “How fucking dare you. How fucking dare you keep this from me and drop it on me like a bomb when I’ve finally chosen to accept that I want you! That I want to be yours!” She ran her hands violently over her face as an angry cry barreled from her throat.
Another deception.
“Why,” she said, voice dripping with devastation covered up in fury, “why have you done any of this? What point was there if it was going to end? If I am to lose you now, too?”
Reeve didn’t answer.
“Why?” pressed Maeve.
“You know why,” he said quietly.
“To manipulate me into fighting on your side of the war?” asked Maeve, a dark quality seeping into her voice.
“Because I love you.”
She was acutely aware that those words had never been directly said to her. Not in that order. Not in that way. Mal’s love was evident in many ways, but never in the form of a burning confession.
She bit back the return of her own confession, one that would complement and complete his, truthful as the words were.
“Love? You’ve lied to me endlessly,” said Maeve, her temper rising. “You lied to me from the moment we met— or re-met, you knew about our bond, you knew about my mother, you knew about my Shadow Magic, you knew about Antony, you knew I once loved you, and you knew about the fucking goblet!”
His voice was quiet. “I had no idea the goblet still held poisonous Magic. When it was poisoned—”
“When you poisoned it,” she corrected him hotly.
Reeve nodded, accepting his part of the blame. “When I poisoned the liquid inside the goblet, I would never have guessed the goblet itself would retain that poison for hundreds of years. Poison, I’ll remind you, that didn’t work on its intended target.”
“You once told me that Shadow Magic was deception. That to be near it was to lose sight of reality. That is what you are to me. I cannot see clearly around you! I cannot trust you.”
“And I take responsibility for it.”
“Shut up!”
Reeve did, his eyes never leaving hers.
“I won’t do it,” she said, her eyes burning. “I won’t do it, and you can’t make me.” She sucked in sharply with jagged breaths. She shuddered a blubbering cry, her words broken and muddled. “I hate you. I fucking hate you. I hate that I love you.”
Something cracked open in her chest. Her mouth fell open in a silent, airless cry.
Her knees gave way, and she let them. Reeve’s arms braced her as she fell limply into him, and he lowered them to the floor. He cradled her head against him, his fingers firm but gentle.
“I can’t do this,” she cried, her voice raw, her fist finding his chest and curling into the fabric. “I hate you for this, and I won’t do it! I can’t, I can’t beat her, I can’t save him or you or Maxius—”
Reeve held her tighter and tucked his head atop hers.
“Scream and cry and hate, but don’t you dare start giving up.
Not now.” He stroked her hair tenderly and spoke with soft intensity.
“You’ve only just been thrust into the fire, only just begun being forged.
Now the warrior is made. Now is your greatest hour, Maeve Sinclair. ”
She raised her head, not caring that she was a complete mess. Reeve looked down at her, bringing a hand to her face.
“I love you,” he said a second time. “I never stopped loving you. And even after you Inherit from me, I will still be with you in that Magic, our Magic, and you will feel all of my love forever. That is a promise.”
The Inheritance was not stoppable. It was written in Magic: she would take his life-force.
“Why did I have to fall for you?” she cried.
Reeve as he stroked her hair, and smiled softly down at her. “Why is that such a bad thing?”
“Because,” she replied. “What point is there?”
Reeve’s hand stilled. “What point is there? Life is the point, Maeve. Living is the point.”
“But everything—”
“Always comes to an end, yes,” he spoke with intensity.
“That is the even flow of our universe. What always was cannot always be, and what will be cannot have always been. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t live.
” His broad hand brushed across her face, his fingers moving smoothly across her skin once more. “Gods, Maeve, you should live.”
She threw her arms around his center and sobbed in his protective hold.