A Thousand Years (Soulmates Book 1) by Brigitte Ann Thomas Page A

touch, Anabell. You would be foolish to think so. Things that appear harmless can still be dangerous,” Lugh said. He let her foot go a moment later and returned to the ground.
                  “Eadric isn’t dead yet, you don’t have a reason to make a deal with me. And even then, I couldn’t offer you any vengeance for his death. And I cannot recycle his soul. Not even for you. He still belongs to me.”  Lugh looked over his shoulder to the window, where smoke was billowing out at a higher rate than before. It would still be a while before he died, but Lugh knew that he was in immense pain.               He couldn’t do anything for him, though.
                  “Just listen to me. Please, Lugh. You’ve got to save him,” Anabell cried. Lugh shrugged his shoulders. Without Eadric calling for his help, he couldn’t interfere. Damaged mouth or not, Lugh was bound. He gave her his best sympathetic face. He was out of options. There was no reason for him to stick around and watch the carnage. They were both going to die.
                  “There is nothing I can do,” he said matter-of-factly.
                  Anabell screamed.
                  “That’s bullshit!” If she wasn’t tied to a stake, she would have attacked him with both hands until she drew blood.
                  “A god can’t interfere where he is not invoked, Anabell. Eadric can’t call out, I can go to him. My hands are tied. You might as well give it up. I’m sorry that I can’t save you.” Lugh was about to disappear when Anabell yelled to stop him.
                  “Wait! I’ve got a proposition.”
     
     
                  Eadric couldn’t scream on the outside, but inside, he was crying in pain. Every inch of exposed skin was already burned up, burned down to the muscle and tissue. His clothes were burned off the front of his body.
                  Just being in the air stung. If he managed to get free before he completely burned up, it was going to take months to heal the extensive damage to his body. Having skin left would be a miracle. It wasn’t worth living, though, if Anabell died out there. Without him.
                  One day was not enough time with her. A lifetime still wouldn’t be enough, but it would have been a lot closer to what she deserved. It was his fault that he couldn’t give her more. His blindness for the clan, his single-minded focus on seeing his love returned to him. They would have been better off if he had just died that day too. Instead, innocent women and children had died in his stead.
                  The pain had to be a thousand times worse for her.
                  Needing to focus on something happier, Eadric reminisced on the time he did spend with her. Her sweet kiss, those lips that he pictured exploring his body – the memory of her lips on his was heaven – that’s what he wanted to die remembering. But he could barely taste her kiss anymore with taste of silver, burning flesh, and blood in his mouth. He tried his best to recall it, but he couldn’t. There was no resurrecting it.
                  He couldn’t even die with her taste on his lips. It was cruel.
                  The pain was nearing unbearable. Soon, he would pass out and, hopefully, burn his way into oblivion in his sleep. Without hearing her death scream, without taking a last, conscious breath, and without picturing her face as he died. He resigned himself to die. He just hoped someone saw the blaze in time to save Anabell.
                  Just as the pain peaked, hitting a level Eadric didn't know it could, a bright light filled the room and blinded him completely. Peace filled him. This had to be what dying was like. All his pain evaporated.
     
     
                  "Get up and get outside. Anabell needs you. Now, while