Lucian POV:
The fireplace provides sufficient light within the chambers; the shadows cast by the flames dance along the walls in a gory mockery of the grief that is thick in the air. I noticed none of that, my hands clasping the withered fingers of the woman lying in the bed before me.
I can hear the rattle in her chest with each breath that she draws, and it is like a knife across my heart. She is living on borrowed time, and when her voice, weak and frail, reaches my ears, I want to collapse in her arms and weep.
“Has Lillith a—arrived?”
“Not yet, my heart,” I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it fervently.
A lifetime we have spent with each other, an entire century, and our love has never wavered or weakened. And tonight, she will leave me behind.
She sighs. “I—I worry about you.
