Death.
It lurked all around him. Strong, more than just the shadows under the trees, the comforting dark of a cave. At one point in his life, he imagined going quietly into it, like closing his eyes to sleep for a final time. Now it reached for him like an undead’s hand clawing up out of a grave, dragging him under against his will.
Death.
All his tricks, all his plans, all for naught. He couldn’t escape it this time. It enveloped his mind, his limbs, pressing his life down into his chest until he couldn’t speak. It had him doing things he would have never forgiven himself for, if only he could form the thoughts to say so.
No words but mine.
Yasffyn knew. She was prepared to take his place as he had for Shamlan, only...only...
You are mine.
What was he remembering?
Not Hers, Neddy. Mine. Come back. Breathe.
Neddryn gasped suddenly and wondered at the fact he could do so.