The Shadow Knight had never intended for his witch to be drawn into the final day of this curse. In his last moments alive, he wanted to be numb, to watch the world crumble from a place of neither emotion nor memory of how he had failed. He planned on being alone, on sequestering himself in the bedchamber that was supposed to become his when he was master of the castle.
He didn't expect his witch to find him, especially once the Heart was destroyed.
By some miracle, she had, and he began to realize they were reliving the fate of his ancestor, the Shadow Knight whose death started the curse. Naia had predicted his death at the hands of Brown Sun Lake and they'd bonded the night before the final battle.
The only real difference: the world was ending this day and there was no Heart for Naia to use to cast another thousand-year spell.
His feelings and mind refused to give him peace and grant him the respite he hoped to have today. Pain so raw it caused physical pain made him touch his heart, and he rose from the bed where he had spent the entire night making love to his battle-witch, his queen, his Naia, who slept deeply after the long night.
She proved to be as intriguing in bed as she was during daylight, her complete submission making his sense of possessiveness roar in satisfaction. He had laid with her every way possible, unable to get enough of her, needing more despite the hours they spent with their skin pressed together.
Sweet, gentle, spirited, beautiful. His queen was not traditional, but she was his in every way, a woman with compassion greater than all the magic of the medallion she wore, whose tears for him and his world were genuine, and whose cries and sighs as she writhed beneath him made him want to do what he thought impossible.
He wanted . . . needed to save her. His soul quivered with the despair brought on by the thought of watching her die. One night with the woman who brought him back to life and gave him hope was not enough.
The Shadow Knight crossed to the window and braced his hands on either side. It was harder than usual to know what time of day it was; the black clouds above his castle shunted out even more sunlight than usual. It was lightening outside despite the fog, and he judged it to be around mid-morning.
He had dreamt since he was five of seeing the blue sky during his reign. Instead, the heavens had turned black because he was unable to stop it.