“You felt that blade the same way I did,” I told him. “You felt it sink into us over and over until we hit the ground. You feel the silver burning through every vein right now. Do not stand there and tell me this body is not finished because we both know it is.”
(Oh, I feel it. I feel every inch of it, Damon. Every flame, every cut, every drop of blood leaving us. I feel the weight of this body the same way you do. But you want to know the difference between you and me? You are ready to die with it. I am not.)
I closed my eyes because the trees above me were spinning, and every time I tried to lift my head the whole world tilted sideways.
“She is out there,” I said, my chest tightening until it hurt worse than the wound itself. “Lyra. She is running through the woods carrying our childr
