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“Don’t you dare tell me no, Darien Cassel,” she said, that sob managing to break free. “I am not living without you, do you understand me?” Carefully, she took his face into her hands, getting blood all over one cheek as she forced him to look at her. “I am not. Living. Without. You.” She looked up at the others, eyes swimming with tears. “Lay him down please.”
“Stop her,” he slurred. “Please.” But every word he spoke was weaker than the one that came before it, and she knew she only had minutes left to do this. “She can’t. You can’t let her. Please.” His voice broke on the last word. Shattered, just like her heart.
The others glanced at each other, not knowing what to do.
“Fuck if I let you die,” Max bit out, eyes shining.
Tanner pressed a hand to his mouth, looking like he was about to be sick, tears running between his palm and face.
Travis drew a ragged breath. “You’re not going anywhere, Dare.”
It was Ivy, tears streaming down her face, who said thickly, “We love you, Darien. We all love you.” It wasn’t just a statement, but also a reply. A reply to Darien’s request to stop her from healing him.
No one in these tunnels was willing to lose him. Not tonight.
Not ever.
The pained look that swept across his face was not the physical kind, Loren knew. It was pain that stemmed from understanding.
Together, Max and Jack eased him down onto his good side.
“Screw you guys,” Darien gurgled.
“We love you too, Dare,” Jack replied.
Loren shuffled closer. “It’s okay, Darien,” she sniffled. “We’re going home soon, okay? It’s almost over.”
“I am home,” he slurred. When she looked at him, she saw tears welling in his eyes, the clear moisture diluting the blood. “You’re my home, Lola. You’re my home.”
Loren wept. “You’re mine too, Darien. You’re mine too.”
He tried to reach for her again, that hand closing on open air, unable to find her. She took his hand into her right one and clasped it tightly, while she flattened her other over his chest. She could feel his skin through the rips in the bodysuit; it was so cold.
Darien winced with every breath—the breaths that were few and far between, death only minutes away now. She kept her hand pressed over his heart, her bodysuit slick with all the blood, some of it Darien’s.
“Close your eyes, Darien,” Loren whispered hoarsely.
“But I can’t see you.”
“I’ll be there too. We’re going to the ocean.”
The ocean was the only place where she knew how to do this. That magical place she’d dreamt up the very first time she had ever healed him, the place they returned to on the bad nights, the nights when he jolted awake, unable to sleep. The nights when he needed her comfort. The ocean was where she brought him when she awoke in the night to him bolting up in bed, sweating and breathing heavily. She would lay him back down, and he would set his head on her chest and listen to her heart, his arms wrapped firmly around her middle. She would paint a picture for him with words, and together they would go there. Together they would dream—would fall back asleep.
That was where she took him now.
“Do you see it?” Loren whispered.
The faintest nod.
Loren closed her eyes. “I need you to stay by the ocean, okay? I need you to stay there—just for a minute. Okay?”
“Okay.” The word was the softest croak. His heart was slowing, and she knew it had very little to do with being calm.
She had to hurry.
Even with Darien right in front of her, she still needed a memory to summon her magic. A happy memory, an image of him smiling and unharmed, the kind of memory she wanted to switch into his reality again. She pictured him like that, pictured him standing up and walking out of this horrible place. Into the future he deserved.
The future with the ocean. They would find that ocean one day, and together they would go there. Together, they would build a home. A new life. She could see them there. Could see her and Darien walking on that white sand, barefoot. The sun would stream through his dark hair; the salty wind would caress his skin and blow through his clothes. Loren imagined how that sunlight would feel, and as she imagined its heat, a warmth of her own making pooled in her chest.
