No. No, no, no.
Tristan cursed.
“Your eyes...” Nathaniel waved a hand at Tristan and sternly said, “Back away.”
Tristan stepped away and the blue light disappeared from the walls.
Scarlet looked at Tristan. “It happened again?”
“Again?” Nathaniel whipped his head to Tristan. “This has happened before?”
Tristan looked panicked. “It happened the other night. I didn’t know what it meant.”
“You should have told me.” Nathaniel cursed and returned his attention to Scarlet, studying her face like it was a puzzle. His forehead wrinkled. “Walk back over to Scarlet,” he said to Tristan.
Tristan obeyed, stepping forward, and as soon as he neared, blue light shot from Scarlet’s eyes. The minor burning intensified and a shot of pain cut through her insides.
Tristan cursed again. “I’m hurting her.” The light faded as he moved to stand against the opposite wall, hands fisted at his sides. “I’m causing this.”
Nathaniel nodded. “It appears that way.”
“What is this?” Scarlet asked with a cracked voice. “What is happening to me?”
Nathaniel shook his head with a somber look, but said nothing. He did not need to, Scarlet already knew the answer.
She was dying.
“There has to be something else we can do.” Tristan hurried around Nathaniel’s library, panic and dread filling his soul.
“She’s semi-immortal.” Nathaniel said sympathetically. “I cannot change what she is.”
Gabriel—who was supposed to be with Scarlet, taking care of her through the bloody noses and eyes that were now flashing nonstop—stood in the doorway. “You need to calm down, Tristan.”
He whipped his head to Gabriel, fury racing up his throat. “Calm down? Scarlet is dying. She’s dying.”
“I know, but you need to calm down.”
Tristan rubbed his jaw and looked back at Nathaniel. “We need to leave for the New World today.”
“There are no ships departing—”
“Then we will buy our own ship and go alone.”
Nathaniel raised his hands. “You’re not thinking clearly—”
“No, you’re not thinking clearly! She’s going to die and I will be without her for another hundred and fifty years!” His throat closed up on this last sentence, causing him to clamp his mouth shut and wish he could tear out the heart inside him that hurt so much.
An impossible pain drove into Tristan’s chest and, at the same moment, a cry came down the stairs and into the library.
Scarlet.
“Why the hell did you leave her alone?” Tristan yelled at Gabriel as he rushed out of the library and up to Scarlet’s room.
Tristan froze when he saw her.
She was on the floor, curled into a ball as she clutched her chest, blood falling from her nose. She was in severe pain—unbearable pain cutting straight through her heart and filling Tristan’s gut. She was groaning and gasping and crying and—
“Scar.” He dropped to the floor beside her, all reason gone from his mind as he lifted her gently and held her against him.
“Do not leave me, Hunter,” she begged. “I do not want to be alone. I am scared and—ah!” She clutched at her chest again and Tristan felt her torture echo in his body.
“There has to be something that will take away her pain!” Tristan yelled at Nathaniel who was rushing into the room.
He shook his head and hurried to Scarlet’s side, looking into her eyes as she cried. “You need to leave, Tristan. Your nearness is making it worse.”
Dammit, he was right.
Tristan kissed her forehead once, then twice, wishing he could take away her pain, before reluctantly releasing her body and walking to the door.
Disbelief, fear, horror, helplessness.
This was all his fault.
Scarlet shook her head. “I do not want Tristan to leave me—” She whimpered as her pain intensified and, without another thought, Tristan turned from the room and left the house.
Out the door and into the backfield, he put as much distance between himself and Scarlet as possible so her heart would stop breaking. But her pain stayed with him, biting into his chest with every pulse.
He wasn’t far enough, he wasn’t fast enough.
He began to run, but her pain was still there, reverberating in his chest.
Picking up speed, he ran until the night around him was a blur of shadows and wind and Scarlet’s pain was soon overshadowed by his own pain, his muscles pulling tight and hot, sucking the air from his lungs in his distance from her.
He pressed on, through the trees and wind, until his physical pain had him gnashing his teeth, burning from the inside out. The piece of his heart that lived in Scarlet was screaming at the expanse between them, but he could not give in. He needed to run…farther…away…
His limbs started to shake, his body broke into fever and his organs began to twist until he thought he was in hell.
He felt for her and grunted at the pain that still lingered in her chest. Through blinding torment and retching muscles, Tristan pushed forward before falling to his knees. He began crawling through the dirt. Farther away. He just needed to get…farther…away… He dug at the earth, trying to force his gnarled body to obey his wishes and then—
Nothing.
The pain vanished, leaving numbness in its wake.
Scarlet was gone.
He could no longer feel her.
Letting his body fall completely to the ground, he untwisted his limbs and roared into the night.
He had killed Scarlet.
CHAPTER 13
London 1695
Far past midnight, Gabriel stumbled into the house he shared with Tristan—months of gambling had robbed him of his own house—the bright moon giving away his shadow even as he tried to keep in the dark.
He closed the door behind his drunken body and winced at the heavy sound it threw into the room. The last thing he needed was a lecture from Tristan about his depraved lifestyle.
No one had responded well to Scarlet’s shocking and horrible death. Nathaniel had locked himself in his home across town, determined to study medicine so he could heal her when she returned.
Tristan barely spoke a word and rarely made eye contact, spending his every waking hour in the forest shooting arrows and throwing weapons at innocent trees.
And Gabriel was back to feeling the full weight of the curse, painfully aware of the absence of joy from his chest. An absence alcohol, cards, and women seemed to temporarily soothe.