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When she blinked, she saw that tree again, glowing above a pond. Saw that endless sky full of stars, and the path that went everywhere and nowhere at once.
She fought against those images, forcing herself to stay here, right here with these people. These people who cared for her, the people who deserved to be remembered—
Darien Cassel was carrying her into the chamber. She was so far gone that it took her a minute to realize that he was running—running and cursing and screaming his lungs out.
He set her down on the table on her back. Rain began to float through the room, followed by tiny balls of light that looked like fireflies.
The door banged shut, and Darien took one of her hands into both of his. “I’ve got you, Loren. I’ve got you. I’m right here—”
A broken sob shuddered through her teeth. “I don’t want to die.”
“You’re not going to die.”
Warm tears slid down her cheeks. She felt cold, and the edges of her vision were turning white and foggy. “I don’t want to die, Darien.” Her voice echoed and faded, and she saw that tree again, calling out to her. She recoiled, a frantic sob clawing up her throat. She didn’t want to go back—she wanted to stay here. “I’m not ready—”
“I’m right here, sweetheart,” Darien said. “I’m right here, Loren, and I’m not leaving. I’m not leaving you, okay?” He leaned closer, flattening her shaking hand over his thumping heart. “Feel that?”
She nodded. Blinked. More tears slipped down her face.
“Focus on my heart,” Darien said. “On my breathing. I want you to breathe with me, Loren. Can you do that?”
She nodded again, clinging to the feel of his warm chest under her palm. She tried to blink away the fog obscuring his face, but the motion only set free more tears, salty moisture on her lips.
Darien drew a deep breath, accentuating the movement for her, and she copied.
Wisps of light, color, and shadow danced through the room like woven thread. They reminded Loren of the natural phenomenon that crossed the northern skies once every one hundred years—a sight she had always wished to see in person. But no matter how beautiful, she kept watching Darien, copying his breathing, her hand rising on his solid chest with every determined inhale.
She couldn’t look away from him. Even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t, and she didn’t want to. She wanted to keep looking at him.
“Breathe, sweetheart.” Darien’s voice—strong and commanding attention, but still managing to be gentle for her—worked wonders at relaxing the tension in her body, even more than the dancing lights and the breathing technique and whatever the humming chamber around her was doing. The opalescent walls shone and rippled with colors. “Just breathe.” He inhaled again, and she copied.
In. Out.
In. Out.
In… Out…
In…
Out…
Eventually, her heart regained a steady, strong beat. No longer was it weak, fluttery, or too fast. She felt rejuvenated, like she’d had the best sleep of her life, or had finally found water after a long stretch of time spent in dry heat.
Another few minutes, and Darien spoke. Very quietly, this time. A whisper meant for only her. “Loren?”
She nodded. Swallowed—or tried to, her mouth and throat too dry. “I’m okay.”
He gathered her to him, lifting her upper half off the table so he could wrap his arms around her. Hugging her, she realized later than she should have. Darien Cassel was hugging her. His chest was pressed against hers, his body warm and solid and strong. In his arms she felt…safe. Really safe.
He was a really good hugger.
“You’re good at this,” she mumbled into his shirt, her hands grasping his arms. She took a deep breath, testing her heart, the inhale filling up her lungs with the scent of him. He smelled really good. Was there anything about this man that wasn’t appealing? That didn’t call out to her? She’d been around him for less than an hour, and there didn’t seem to be anything that didn’t make her react all funny around him.
Friends. Maybe she had developed a crush on him these past six months, and this was why she felt this way. She wouldn’t doubt it; it seemed like something she would do—crush on the man who’d decided to be her superhero instead of her villain.
“Mmm.” Darien’s voice rumbled through her chest. “I don’t hug very often, but whenever you want one, I’d be happy to oblige.”
Her arms closed around his muscular back, her fingers curling in his shirt, gripping the soft material in fists. For several minutes, they just breathed together. All around them, the rain and the lights kept shivering, even long after Loren’s body had stopped its own violent trembling. She was calm now, her heart a normal, steady rhythm, and she was no longer cold.
