Light fractured from her chest, illuminating the suspended snowflakes.
The tether between us strengthened, weaving around our hearts until there was no escape. No place she could hide from me. No thought or secret I couldn’t read.
I felt her on the other side.
Felt her fighting to get back to me.
With a choice that would paint me entirely as the villain, I stopped seeking souls to feed off and fed on life itself. I dug it out of the earth and tore it out of the air.
I devoured every shred of energy I could and fired it directly into her.
The bond snapped tight.
The blizzard ceased and the world went deathly still.
Agonisingly slowly, her body reversed its disintegration. A cloud of snowflakes descended over her as her body healed—rebuilding itself from snow to bone. Her hair bled from white to black. Her lips lost their blue tinge.
Bit by bit, she returned to me, and with an earth-shaking boom that echoed off the mountain peaks, everything suddenly...stopped.
The cost of what I’d just done made nausea claw up my throat.
I’d just murdered hundreds in return for one...
And I would do it all over again because I had no intention of ever letting her go.
Chapter Three
DAWN BROKE AND THE SUN TRACKED over the sky, but Rook never woke. I didn’t have any strength to move, and my fire never sparked.
Perhaps it was my penance for what I’d done.
For what I’dbecome.
Maybe she would never wake, and I would die for the second time, all because I’d used lives that weren’t mine to use.
I slipped back into darkness.
And in the quicksand of exhaustion, I vaguely heard helicopters soaring over the skeletal remains of the mountain. A flock of them flew to the top of the range, landing on the cooled magma that’d replaced the Eastern Crucible.
I didn’t know if they were enemies or friends.
I didn’t really care.
I gathered Rook closer and closed my eyes—
* * * * *
Stars twinkled over carnage by the time I woke again.
I had no idea how many hours or days had passed, but my body felt marginally stronger. I could stay awake at least, but...weakness clung like a death shroud.
I hated it.
I missed the fire, even though it hurt. I missed the heat. The power. The pain. Without it, I felt fragile. Feeble. Useless.
We have to go.
We hadn’t been found yet—tucked beside the river and hidden by fallen branches—but we would be. Eventually.
