Emori
I cling to the man I have dreamed about for the last twelve decades. I thought I was dreaming when I saw him standing there. I knew my time was coming to an end; consciousness kept taking me under, then releasing me momentarily. I thought my mate had come to bring me to my next life.
I even believed Lyric was a figment of my imagination until she kissed my hand. I felt her lips on my knuckles, and I heard how sorry she was. But Lyric had nothing to be sorry for; she only did and thought what any mate would. She wanted the woman who hurt her mate dead.
I heard my mate’s words of sadness, him asking if I was willing to allow him to change me and how he loved me. I know I was out of it and probably shouldn’t have agreed to something I had no knowledge of, but ‘yes’ slipped out withou
