Aldous' face pales, the blood leaving it instantly. His wolf panics, and suddenly I can't feel any anger anymore, no pain at the betrayal, his sole focus is my survival.

"What? No." His voice is firm, alpha dominance in full force, and it washes over me like a comforting blanket. Because this is my alpha, and despite our circumstances, I chose him. I welcome his dominance, and will cherish it until the end.

"You have to." I lean forward slowly, tucking my feet beneath me so I can stand. I can't look like a pathetic omega right now, with bruises around her throat, on the ground. I have to present as his mate, the queen of his pack, for the short time it will still be so. "You being here, after all this, our wolves still intertwined...we can't break this bond. And there's no time to figure out another way. Both of our packs are dying. If you kill me, it'll break the bond and you can go mate with Lydia right away."

The thought sickens me, of course it does, but this is the only option now. What is left? Other than letting both of our packs, and eventually us, die out completely?

His fingers twitch and he starts to reach for me. Then he stops, and my wolf whimpers. She wants the contact. I do, too, but I know it will just make this all harder.

"I can't do that," he finally says, and though his voice is firm and strong I can hear the agony beneath.

"You have to," I plead. "How else do we break this? I can't...and even finding out about my betrayal didn't make you..."

He does grab me this time, pulling me against him, cupping my face as he stares down at me. "What makes you think I won't follow you into death?" he whispers, and it hurts to look at him.

He's a good man. A good wolf. And somehow, over the course of the last twenty-four hours, we've fallen in love with each other. Normal mate bonds take time to develop, take preexisting feelings and commitment. He wouldn't have been able to force it on me unless I was wholly willing, and though I was, the bond itself should have been weak for a while until we got to know each other.

But it feels like if I tugged on it, I could rip his heart from his chest. How did this happen so fast?

If he died, right now, I would follow him into death, I know I would. I can almost feel it, like our bond is around me like a harness, pulling me off the edge into a deep chasm.

But I can't tell him any of that. Because he's stronger than me, and he has to believe it, too.

"Because your father didn't," I say, and I keep staring at him even though it's painful, drinking in every sweet line on his face. "Because you're a strong, honourable man, and you won't give up on all of the lives at stake."

I believe in him. And even though I can see his heart breaking, he believes it, too. He's imagining a world without me and I don't envy him, because I couldn't do it. Even still mourning the murder of my best friend—at the hands of my mate, no less—I can't let go of him.

I don't want to say, either, that even if he did die with me, that might stop the curse. It didn't flare up all these generations because there was no eligible heirs to marry. It's only Lydia's existence and coming-of-age that set this all into motion, so perhaps if Aldous was gone, it would all reverse.

We'll never know for sure.

"What did we do to the gods?" he whispers. "For them to torture us like this? To give us such a strong bond only to make us tear it in half right after?" He kisses me, and it's so gentle, like a brush of the breeze across my lips. "For making me love you and then taking you away from me?"

I want to tell him that it was worth it, but that's easy for me to say because I don't have to deal with the pain much longer. I won't have to deal with the pain of it breaking.

Although, perhaps, I will. Perhaps in the afterlife, my wolf will forever be lost without her mate. Perhaps breaking a bond via death is just as awful as in life.

That thought frightens me, but doesn't shake my resolve.

"Maybe we're the only ones that could handle it," I say instead, and he kisses me again, this time harder, as if he's memorizing my lips, my taste, drinking my breath.

Our eyes close and our tears mingle, cheeks both wet, hands clutching at each other. Part of me wants to ask him to take me one last time, but I can't, that would be even more difficult for him, it wouldn't be fair.

He curls his hands around the back of my head, and this is it—we don't have a weapon, so he's going to have to break my neck. Snap the bones like a twig, and then try not to fall with me as my lights go out.

I pour every ounce of my courage into the bond to show him I'm not afraid, and a choked sob wrenches its way from his throat. He still doesn't want to do it, but his steel determination is there too, because he knows he has to.

I love you, I think, hoping that he'll feel it rather than hear it. I love you and I will love you even in death.

"And I you," he whispers, and tightens his grip.

Everything goes white.