He pressed his limitations further, allowing himself to become fully washed with the darkness that thrummed through him with natural course. It tasted delicious, he had to admit, being a vessel for power beyond any of their comprehension.
It slid across his skin, burrowing into his bones, aiding his will to see Shadow’s existence shatter.
The next blow cleaved across his face, icy and wet, but he endured.
Maeve’s fingers dug deep against him, urging him to stop. He wanted to tell her it was for her that he persisted. That it was for their son, the perfect baby boy she’d given him, that he pushed himself to the edge willingly as the creature in his grip deteriorated further.
Not to the edge, he corrected himself as a warm dizziness settled over him. Over the edge. Another wave pressed down on him, cracking his insides, fracturing his bones, bursting his organs.
He tensed, his memory flooding and delivering him the feeling of snapping Maeve’s arm clean in two. A stomach-churning sickness raced down his spine, further fueling his ripping, shredding, and complete destruction of Shadow.
With a zap of victorious energy that must have traveled for miles in all directions, Mal’s fingers relaxed. And in that same instance, Shadow’s life-force, though her body slid to the earth in a skeletal mass one would presume dead, snapped out of being.
She drew no breath; she sang no Magic.
The Magic propelling the Dreaded Dead across the realm shattered with her.
Mal’s hands hovered where he’d previously held her. He couldn’t help but feel disappointment at the sight of them. Ripped flesh clung to his exposed bones. His arms dropped, and only then did he realize Maeve was holding him up, with both her arms snugly around him. A shake began at his core, slowly taking over his body. His legs gave way, but Maeve was quicker.
She lowered him to the thawing ground with the ease of lowering a feather, cradling his shoulders in one arm with her focus on the lacerations he’d willingly taken. His head rolled against her warm body.
Finally, some mercy for him at last. It was she who would usher him from this life.
“Just hold on, I can heal you.”
Slowly, too slowly, beneath her hands, his chest sewed shut and his blood regenerated. He placed his hand over hers as thewounds unsealed themselves—his debt of blood was still being collected by the Magic he’d used moments ago.
Her brows pulled together. “Stop,” she commanded the blood, desperately trying to cover all the holes, the slices, the stabs of Magic.
“Eyes on me, Maeve,” he muttered.
Her pale-blue eyes latched onto his at once. Her jaw shook.
“You keep those pretty eyes on course,” he said, a strained gasp slipping from his throat. “You give Maxius the life he deserves.”
She shook her head. In her determined silence, she continued to pour her Aterna Magic into him, but he knew. . .
It wasn’t enough.
The ancient and holy Dread Magic he’d bartered with would not bend to such purity. Like the sting of the Dread Dagger, such wounds would have to heal naturally. But such fatal wounds would not.
Tension coiled through his body. He was fading quickly. These were his final moments, and he wouldn’t spend them watching her futile attempts to bring him back to life.
“I told you I would die for you.” He smiled weakly. His hand beneath hers slipped free, reaching, shaking, towards her face, desperate to feel her one last time. Warm blood slid between their skin. “And I will.”
Tears fell, violently from her eyes, pouring across her face, dripping into his open wounds.
“I didn’t want to fail you this time,” she cried. “I promised I wouldn’t this time.”
“You didn’t fail, Little Viper. You set me free. This was always my destiny. Written in Magic, remember?” His thumb brushed over her bottom lip.
“It isn’t fair,” she said, her bloodied and shaking hands moving to his face, abandoning her healing. Her thumbs moved over his cheeks, surging him with one final feeling of euphoria.
“What a beautiful last moment together,” he said, his voice low and assuring. “To fight next to you with my final breaths to saveour son. To see you, in all your glory, fight for me and Maxius. If I must go, I am happy it is next to you.”
The assurance and acceptance in his voice shattered Magic between them. Something old and promised had come to completion: he would die before she did.
“Tell him the truth,” said Mal, as the feeling of his lips and tongue drained. “Tell him what I did. Make sure he knows every detail. It is the only gift I can bestow in hopes that my mistakes are not repeated.”
