The story so far:
112: And the mirror shows me my frustration and my fear; my overwhelming fear that I would lose her. And I did lose her.
113: There’s a knocking on the door, but I’m too weak to answer. I’ve stood here for days, dizzy and nauseous, compelled to watch the disaster.
114: I don’t want to watch, I don’t want to see – the spell is corrupted, this isn’t what I need.
115: The mirror mists and clears again and there I am, that last time, kissing her nape, finding the bite marks on her back.
116: “Who was it this time?” I asked angrily, my desire dying swiftly. “Don’t be like that,” she reached for me, but I dodged out of reach.
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