him there, find him and destroy him, leaving no trace behind.
He was aware of Lysandra bending over him, felt the brush of her lips against his one last time. He could feel the vibration of her footsteps as she walked away, leaving him alone in the stillness of the night, alone to face the dawn.
Rhianna...
He was alone, weightless, helpless, floating in a sea of darkness that had no beginning and no end. The scent of damp earth and grass teased his nostrils, reminding him of the newness of life, of all that was forever lost to him.
Rayven! Come back to me. I will not live without you...
Rhianna's voice echoed in his mind, over and over again, filling him with soul-deep regret and the knowledge that, in seeking to end his own life, he had failed her.
Hours passed. He began to shiver uncontrollably. He curled into a tight ball, drawing his cloak around him. Rhianna's voice pounded in his head, begging him not to leave her.
Rayven, don't leave me... Please... Come back to me...
Her heartbeat echoed in his mind, growing ever weaker, until it beat in time with his, slow and heavy, and he knew that when death found him, it would find her, as well.
Rhianna... Rhianna..."Forgive me..."
Chapter Twenty-five
For a time, it seemed as though she would recover. Her appetite increased. She got out of bed for longer and longer periods of time; she asked Montroy to take her into the maze where she sat for over an hour, staring at the rosebushes, at the statues of the raven and the wolf.
She seemed at peace there, and for a time, Montroy hoped she had accepted the fact that Rayven was gone. Now, he thought, now she'll turn to me and we can begin our life together.
But it was not to be.
For no apparent reason, she went into a decline that came on rapidly, without warning. As the days passed, she grew ever weaker. Her mother and sisters came, bringing sweet treats to tempt her appetite, plying her with hot tea, smiling with forced gaiety as they told her of Aileen's pregnancy, hoping that the thought of a new life would bring her back from the depths of her despair.
But it was all in vain. She looked at them through eyes devoid of life even as she assured them she would be better soon.
Montroy summoned his family physician, but the man only shook his head, declaring there was nothing physically wrong with her.
Ada summoned the village priest, who laid his hands upon Rhianna's head, then turned away, promising he would light a candle and offer prayers for the welfare of her soul.
"She's willing herself to die." Ada stood beside her daughter's bed, staring down into Rhianna's pale face.
Montroy nodded. "I fear you are right, madam." He cursed softly, wondering if Rayven had foreseen such a thing happening when he took his leave.
"It's all that monster's fault," Ada said bitterly. "He's put a curse on her."
Montroy started to object. He didn't believe in magic, white or black. He thought of all the rumors he had heard about Rayven, the gossip, the speculation. Once, he had laughed it all aside. There were no such things as monsters who stalked the night, draining the life's blood out of others. But then he looked at Rhianna's pale face, at the dark shadows beneath her eyes, the hollows in her cheeks, and wondered if the rumors might not be true, after all.
He sat by her bed, holding her hand, while Ada McLeod urged her daughter to drink a little tea, felt his hatred grow until it became a living thing within him as he saw the empty look in Rhianna's once bright eyes. He heard her whisper Rayven's name, her voice barely audible, before she fell back on the pillows.
Stifling a sob, Ada turned away from the bed. Bevins materialized out of the shadows. For a moment, he watched her weep and then, needing to comfort her, he stepped forward and took Ada into his arms.
For a moment, she stood stiff in his embrace, and then she collapsed against him. Feeling awkward, he stroked her hair and back, his gentle touch releasing the tears she had refused to shed.
Montroy felt his throat thicken as he listened to Ada McLeod weeping for her daughter.
He lifted Rhianna's hand to his lips and kissed her palm, afraid, deep in his heart, that she would never recover.
"Damn you, Rayven," he muttered. "I hope your soul is burning in Hell."