Meg’s lips tingled, feeling numb as Kry pulled away, resting his forehead on her own. Her eyes widened, and he peered down at her with those deep blue eyes, not once breaking her gaze. Her stomach jumped around, tying itself in knots. She could barely speak, couldn’t move. The numbing sensation trickling it’s way down her whole body. Meg leaned her head back to take in his whole face. She parted her mouth in question not knowing what else to do. Kry pulled her closer to him, gently embracing her with strong arms.

“I don’t know why,” His voice was deep and husky. “I just couldn’t help myself.” He reached in between them and began to slowly slide the dagger out from beneath her rib cage. It made a sickening noise, blood rushed out everywhere.

Meg trembled. Pain searing through her bones as a small cry echoed from her lips. Black spots started to swim about making it harder to focus on Kry’s horribly beautiful face. It was hard to stand, her knees were wobbling, the only thing that kept her up were his arms.

“I truly am sorry, Love,” he went down to his knees, moving her limp body into his lap. He brushed a hand down her cheek, so gently it was like he was afraid to break her. He stopped his hand, picking up a lock of her hair, twisting a curl around his finger. “It doesn’t make this any better, but I do truly love you.”

And the worst part of it all was that until her dying breath, she believed him.