But Stellan does.
He goes very still. Not the controlled stillness I’m used to. Something else. Something that looks like horror wearing a mask of calm.
Why does he look like he just figured out something terrible?
I don’t ask.
I kneel instead.
Gray on her right, one hand hovering near her shoulder. Seth on her left, unconscious but still angled toward her. Wes and Theo and Rhett gathered close. Thane shattered in a way I’ve never seen him. Stellan frozen, watching the silver wisps sink into Bree’s skin.
And Bree.
Face down in the dirt. Hair covering her features. Hands limp in the earth.
Not moving.
The hollow pressure in the air makes it hard to breathe. The wrongness of her stillness makes it worse.
I place my hand on the ground near hers. Close, but not touching.
We all made it back to her.
Now she just has to come back to us.
A sound cuts through the silence. Weak. Wet. Wrong.
My head snaps up.
Riley.
She’s ten feet away, collapsed where the blast threw her. Black-silver magic still flickers around her fingers, but it’s guttering—dying. Her chest rises once. Barely. Then stutters.
She’s fading.
But her eyes are open. Fixed on Bree. On the silver pooling into her sister’s skin.
Her mouth moves.
“Touch her.” The words come out broken, barely a whisper. She drags in another breath—rattling, desperate. “Touch her, you idiots.”
Everyone freezes.
Riley’s hand claws at the dirt, trying to drag herself closer. Failing.
“Her bonds—” Blood flecks her lips. “She needs to—giveit somewhere—or it burns her—”
Her voice dies.
Her hand goes still.
Her eyes stay open, fixed on Bree.
And she doesn’t breathe again.
Chapter 4
Wes
