THE HIGH ALPHA
She collapsed completely, her cheek hitting the stone floor, but her eyes remained open, fixed on me with pure hatred even as consciousness slipped away from her again. I tried to reach for her, to drag her back to where she belonged, but my arms wouldn't cooperate. The mirror shard had done more damage than I'd initially assessed, severing something vital in my already compromised, decaying system.
No matter. She was here. Within reach. And when I recovered—which I would, I always did—I would take what was mine. The Hellhound's breathing had stopped entirely now. His chest no longer rose. His heart no longer beat.
Victory. I had won.
All I had to do was survive the next few minutes, let my unnatural healing do its work, and then claim my prizes. The daughter of the Fae King. The power of the Hellhound. Everything I had waited centuries to possess. I just had to wait a little longer.
