Staring into the mirror, I was surprised to see a haunted look in my brown eyes. There was pain there, pain and loss that even the nicest dress and makeup couldn't hide.
Metaphors. This was the cost of making out with an artist.
In fact I was fairly certain there was no one in the entire world quite like Adrian Ivashkov.
Wait. You think I'm going to die? That's why you slept with me?
Things die. But they don't always stay dead. Believe me, I know.
I decided then that if the two people I loved most were safe, I could leave this world. The dead could finally have me. And Iʹd fulfilled my purpose, right? To protect? Iʹd done it. Iʹd saved Lissa, just like Iʹd sworn Iʹd always do. I was dying in battle. No appointment books for me.