It was a stomach.
Marrow hadn't just trapped me. He was trying todigestme. He was trying to break down the bonds, to dissolve the connections so he could feed on the raw energy released by the severance.
He was an eater of magic. And I was the meal.
A flash of red-hot anger sparked in my chest. It wasn't the panic from before. It was pure, indignant rage.
"Well," I said to the darkness, my voice gaining strength, echoing in the impossible space. "I hope you have indigestion."
I didn't reachout. I stopped trying to find the bond around me.
I reachedin.
I grabbed that feeling—the love, the memory, the absolute stubborn refusal to be alone—and I held it. I concentrated it. I compressed it until it was a diamond-hard point in the center of my chest.
You want energy?I thought, baring my teeth in the dark.You want to eat?
I remembered the Solstice Gala. I remembered the feeling of Rhett's hand on my waist. The feeling of Kai's flower in my hair. The feeling of Lucien's eyes on me.
I remembered the heat of the bond. The electric, terrifying, wonderful current that linked us together.
Here.
I didn't push magic. I pushedLina.
I pushed my personality. My sarcasm. My chaotic, messy, human heart. My refusal to be a victim. My refusal to be a snack.
The void shuddered.
It wasn't a subtle tremor. It was a convulsion. The gray space rippled like a disturbed pond.
"I am not food!" I screamed, the sound echoing now, bouncing off invisible walls that were suddenly vibrating with tension. "I am the connection! And you cannot eat this!"
I envisioned the bond not as a thread, but as a chain. A heavy, unbreakable anchor chain.
Drop the anchor,I commanded myself.
I slammed my will downward.
Somewhere, far away—or perhaps right next to me, separated by a thin veil of reality—I felt a tug.
It was faint. Like a fishing line twitching.
But it wasthere.
A golden thread. Frayed, thin, battered by the void, but glowing with a fierce, stubborn light.
Lina!
It wasn't a word. It was a roar. A howl of pure, desperate need.
Rhett.
I'm here!I screamed back, throwing every ounce of my will toward that golden light.Rhett!
Then, a silver thread wrapped around the gold. Cool. Calculating. Sharp.
Hold on, love. We have the scent. We're coming.
