And for a second, I forget the pain. I forget the panic, because seeing him—the man who fears nothing—looks at me like he’s watching his world end.
“I’m okay,” I croak. My fingers find his hand against my cheek, and I hold it there like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered. “But Ronan isn’t.”
I glance to the side, expecting to see Darian's judging glare, but the space where he stood is empty.
“Golden boy bailed the second you screamed Ronan’s name,” Malrik says, bitterness bleeding into his voice. The tension in his body tells me everything I need to know—he’s pissed, and not just at Darian, but at the situation. The fact that I hurt, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.
It makes sense that Darian didn’t stay. His family always comes first, above me, above everything. That’s how he was made.Loyal.
But that’s why I’m afraid for him, and why I will do anything to get rid of the darkness.
Vespera knows who he is truly loyal to. She’ll twist it. If she makes him turn on his own, if she breaks that very last bit of light inside him… he won’t come back from it. Not fully.
And I’m not sure I would be able to save him a second time.
I can’t put it off any longer. We’re out of time.
“We need to break the spell. Now.”
Malrik narrows his eyes. “You’re in no fucking state to do anything except get into that bed and rest.”
Bossy.
I sigh through the ache still pulsing in my ribs. “Please don’t start.” I push myself up on trembling arms. “Ronan needs my help. I need my full magic back if I’m ever to get rid of the darkness in Darian, and there’s nobody else in this realm who can put a stop to Vespera.”
He grabs me and holds on tight as if it will change my mind. “I need you alive, little witch. I couldn’t give a fuck about them.”
My heart thuds. I place my palm on his chest, feeling the steady drum of his pulse under skin inked with chaotic power.
“If you care about me like you say you do, then you will help me. Because I care. And I’ll do this with or without you.”
I really hope he does help me, because I have no clue how to make the potion.
Tension tightens his face, but he doesn't speak. He just lifts me with him, refusing to let go. His scent anchors me, though the dread crawling beneath my skin refuses to ease.
“Raven. What’s happening?”Xarothar's voice booms inside my head—deep, commanding, and laced with restrained panic.
Relief crashes into me like a landslide.
“I’m alright.”
There’s a pause.“Lie better. I can feel every thread of pain slicing through you. Don’t insult both of us.”
I exhale shakily and let my cheek rest against Malriks' chest, listening to his heartbeat.
“We need to break the spell, and I need your help.”
“Anything.”
“I’ll need to tap into the bond again,”I say.“But I need to know you’ll be okay when I do. That you can handle it.”
“I know what to do. But don’t be reckless. If we do this, it has to be at the right moment.”
A weak smile touches my lips.“Thank you.”
“And like I’ve told you before—don’t die. It would be inconvenient.”
I let out a laugh. “That’s not the only reason, and you know it.”
