Marked, Not Kept
Somebody crying somewhere.
His eyes came up.
"Then ask me," Maya said. "Ask me properly. Right now. While I can still say words."
And Wilder Cascade, on his knees in wet grass with his blood in the dirt, said: "Be mine."
"No," Maya said.
The circle went dead.
"Be mine," she said. "Not yours. Not his. Not theirs. Mine, and you're mine, and I'm choosing it, and God help you if you ever forget I did."