Porcupine Ridge everything's a lie

Yes.

Ice replaced the burning anger. Like frost creeping in to announce the first snow of the season, he could feel the chill in his blood, in his bones. The light from his eyes faded. Antigone’s expression fell dead and flat.

Life was unbearably cruel.

Meadow seemed to think that her insisting would aid him, that she might convince him to open his heart to Reyson with words of encouragement. She reached for him and the boy felt his stomach churn. She was tainted, now. The single-word confirmation of her feelings for that disgusting thing was enough to sever their carefully crafted ties.

Antigone did not need Meadow. He did not need Epoch. Knowing that she loved him meant that there would be a future with their children in his home. Bile burned at his throat. He had to swallow thickly to keep himself from retching at her feet.

I hope he dies, the boy stated.

And that was all he had to say. Antigone turned, one last glance from his deep blue gaze fixed on the healer woman.

I would have loved you the way you deserved.

Hurting and feeling small, Antigone began to pad back to the vale where he would tell his mother goodbye.