Cinders of Glass (Bewitching Fairy Tales Book 4) by Celeste Baxendell

Author:Celeste Baxendell [Baxendell, Celeste]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Cynrik tried to get Liora to drink some water, tried to cool her fever, held her hand, but none of it made a difference. All he could do was make her as comfortable as possible while she continued to fade away.

Her shallow breaths were the only indication she was still alive as she fitfully slept. Hours passed. Sometimes Liora woke for a few minutes here and there. Every time his breath caught in his throat with the thought it might be the last. For someone who once thought no one was better than himself with words, they failed him each time. He could never come up with something suitable to be the last thing Liora would ever hear.

The sun had long since set, but Cynrik had not left her side. Oh, it was useless.

He was absolutely, utterly useless, but if he could never be anything else, he might as well be by her side.

He’d lost track of how many tears he’d shed. How did anyone do this? When his parents had died nine years ago, Cynrik hadn’t seen any of it. Only his two eldest brothers had been at their bedsides, despite their wishes to try to keep any of their seven children from seeing them in such a state or risk catching the Blight.

It wasn’t that Cynrik hadn’t cried—oh, he had, probably even more than Liliana had. When the news reached and his two younger siblings, Sterling hadn’t even reacted. Not a single tear or a frown. Stone faced and as impassive and rigid as ice. Like he’d heard that it was going to rain rather than the news his own parents had died. It was far easier for Cynrik to focus on that than on his own grief. That was when he’d realized something was wrong with Sterling, and he’d thrown himself into figuring it out.

Stupid and useless and irresponsible he was, anything was better than the grief.

No. Cynrik was not the kind of person to sit at bedsides and comfort the dying.

But there he was, brushing Liora’s hair from her face as he replaced the cool rag on her face with a fresh one. And he was drowning.

He couldn’t stop himself from cradling her cheek, running a thumb across her skin. The memory of her kissing him was already bittersweet. And he had no idea what to make of her actions, but he would give her anything.

If she opened her eyes and asked him for the whole Esmean Empire, he would not rest until Emperor Eurico knelt at her feet, or he would die trying.

The intensity of such a thought took him off guard. Had it really been earlier that day that Cynrik had been swearing to himself as Besart prattled on that no one could see him and love him? That he would know who he was going to fall in love with the moment he saw her?

Liora shifted, and he didn’t know if she was awake. He did not have the courage to say

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