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Ymaritis had hit her with a stunning spell. He’d timed it perfectly, waiting for the precise moment her shield would be down. It had knocked the wind from her, evacuating her lungs with the force of a thunderbolt. And now she was frozen, her limbs unable to move, her head reeling.
The wind in her ears was deafening as she toppled toward the ground. She was somersaulting, her legs tangling and untangling in the silk of her dress. She caught glimpses of the stars, the sea, the lights of De Vesalis. The rooftops grew closer with terrifying speed.
Move, dammit! she demanded of her fingers. They felt stiff and icy cold, unresponsive to any of her commands. Her blood was rushing to and from her head with such dizzying speed that she could hardly think, but she refused to die. Not with Sera and Manny and Jaime counting on her.
Not without one last apology to Killian.
Move! she cried at her fingers. She was nearly level with the rooftops now. She could see Killian’s face in her mind, a blur of all the wonderful and terrible moments they’d shared together.
The surprise on his face the first time he produced a shield.
The pain in his eyes as he arrested her.
The tremble of his lips as he told her he was falling in love with her.
Move! she bellowed internally, tears clouding her eyes.
The woman’s screams stopped abruptly. Elyse refused to acknowledge what that meant.
MOVE! she roared. And finally, her fingers listened.
The tiniest twitch was all she needed to slow her descent, and she prayed that it would be enough before—
WHAM.
Her knees hit the dirt first. She splayed out, face down on the street, every muscle and bone howling in agony. Her head crashed into the ground, blinding her with pain. She lay there, unable to move. Her body still refused to heed her commands, though she didn’t know if that was from the pain or the stunning spell.
She was barely aware of anything except the hard dirt beneath her and the faint reverberation of footsteps coming toward her. They echoed through her whole body, a formidable symphony.
Far in the distance, someone might have been screaming her name.
“Thank you for this,” a cold voice purred in her ear.
Ymaritis reached into her pocket and pulled out the rose, still wrapped in the handkerchief. She tried to fight him off, but all she could muster was a feeble jerk of her leg.
She heard him laugh before he disappeared, not a wisp of blue smoke to be seen.
“Elyse!”
Someone was pleading her name, and then strong hands were on her. Callused, umber hands. Killian’s hands.
“I’ve got you,” he said, and the darkness embraced her.
Chapter 38
- Killian -
Elyse had been asleep for hours.
Killian sat by the side of her bed in the country estate, waiting for her to awake. Sera had done her best to heal Elyse, despite Jaime’s frantic pestering. She’d eventually sent him on a fool’s errand just to get rid of him. With Sera’s blessing, Killian cleaned the scrapes on Elyse’s knees and head. Sera tried to mend her other injuries, but she admitted she had little talent in the area. Between the two of them, they’d diagnosed her with several broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and a fractured knee. That was only what they could see and feel. She likely had a head injury as well, and maybe internal bleeding.
Sera had said the best thing they could do was give her something for the pain and let her rest, that Elyse would be able to properly heal herself when she awoke. If she awoke.
Her breathing was steady, a rhythmic reminder that she was still fighting. Every now and then, she would murmur in her sleep.
“He took it… He took it.”
The man—Ymaritis—had stolen the rose. They’d been too late. They had failed her.
