One darted toward us, and on instinct, I reached out. My hand brushed its smoky form and it erupted into blinding light, dissolving into nothing. Grim gritted his teeth as another tore into his leg, leaving a fresh gash. I lunged for that one too—just the faintest touch, and it burned away, pure and silent.
"How are you doing that?" Grim gasped, awe threading through the terror.
"I don't know," I panted. "I'm just... touching them." It felt like bringing someone back from the dead—the same pull ofenergy, the same conscious surrender. Only now, it wasn't a revival. It wasrelease. "I think... it's like my curse.”
Grim winced but managed to haul us both upright, leaning heavily on me. As the wraiths closed in again, he reached for one with a trembling hand. The moment his fingers brushed the shadow, it imploded with a crack of black force, collapsing inward until only air remained.
His gift, and mine.
Together.
"You're sending them on," he breathed, clinging to me with the little strength he had left. His dark eyes gleamed, terrified and reverent, as the last of the souls wavered. Their attack halted as they waited…
For me.
I let them come, slowly, patiently—each hovering just behind the other as they waited for me to touch them. And with that one brush, they dissipated—their dark and foreboding forms turning to mist in the night sky, glowing and ethereal as they made their way through a sheer portal that appeared at Grim’s call.
As the wind died down, and the swaths disappeared, I adjusted Grim over my shoulder, supporting his weight as we hobbled back toward the house.
When we made it inside, Day had already swiped the dining table clean, everything in a giant mess on the floor. Hoisting Grim onto the smooth surface, he ran down the hall.
“I’ll go grab a few things,” he yelled.
Smoothing Grim’s hair back, I looked him over, my vision blurry with the tears burning my eyes. Pale and bloodied, he gave me a soft smile, catching my hand with his own as he held it to his cheek.
“I want you to try something for me,” he choked out. His body shook violently.
I nodded, “Anything.”
“I want you to heal me, like you sent those spirits on. The same way you bring back the dead.”
I choked on my words; I couldn’t heal anyone. I tried. Countless times. I’d hold Ishani and rock her in my arms as I moved through the motions. Each time I came up short and nothing about her condition changed. Every attempt was futile and only further pushed me toward bitterness and rage.
“Try,for me.”
His eyes glittered; my favorite dark and starry night. Secrets coming to light. He was asking too much of me, but as I stood there acknowledging the trust in his eyes, I knew I had to try.
He held my palm against his cheek, then moved it down his body until my palm covered a deep gouge on his chest. Closing my eyes, I placed both hands there, centering my thoughts on the wound, renewing his spirit and mending what had been broken. Warmth bloomed. My hands burned. His skin turned molten as a bright light illuminated my palms.
Grim’s eyes stayed trained on me the entire time, and we both gasped as if all the oxygen was suddenly ripped out of the room. The realm unseen to me shuddered, and what could only be explained as a veil appeared with a shimmer as Grim took a deep breath.
Day dropped the towels and supplies he held, his jaw dropping. Reaper barked.
And then there was light.
The house was washed in it, blinding me.
"You and I—we're the same," Grim murmured, his voice thick, almost dreamy. "My Tempest," he sighed, the words slurring into the night air as I leaned closer, drawn to him like a tide I couldn't fight. In one swift, aching motion, his strong arms seized me—dragging me down until I crashed against his chest. Our lips collided, rough and desperate, the world falling away around us.
It wasn’t gentle or careful. It was all consuming, like a man on the verge of extinction.
“Day, go home,” Grim grit out, before descending upon me again.
Day chuckled, tossing a washcloth at our heads. “Glad to see you’re fine. Happy birthday, Storybook.” With that, he was gone.
Grim sat up, bringing my body with him as he stood. Carrying me in his arms, he stalked down the hall, blood coating us both. Reaper barked, causing Death himself to pause, his head cocking to the side.
“Whose dog is that?”
