Elowen's POV
On the last night I refused to let him sleep.
Every time he shifted toward rest I started something new, a question he couldn't ignore, a hand on his arm, a deliberate remark about Corinna that I knew would make him turn over and look at me. I wasn't proud of it.
I had hours left and I was spending them the only way I knew how, which was badly, which was loudly, which was without any of the dignity I'd been pretending to have since the cemetery.
At three in the morning he caught my face in both hands and kissed me quietly. He held my jaw after and looked at me the way he almost never did, straight on, with nothing between us.
"Elowen." His voice was low and serious. "You're young. You have your whole life in front of you, roads you haven't taken, places you haven't been.
