There is no response.
The pressure tightens.
Her pulse roars in her ears, panic clawing its way up her spine as her fingers scramble for the vial in her pocket. This was always the contingency. If he is gone… if there is nothing left…
End it.
Her hand finds the glass. She wrenches it free, forcing it upward between them, pressing it toward his mouth with what little strength she has left.
“Drink it,” she gasps, her voice breaking now. “Please.”
And then something changes. It is not a dramatic shift—it is the smallest fracture. His grip falters, like he’s at war with the one that controls him. Barely enough to notice, but enough that she feels it.
His eyes whir, shift, change. They do not return to what they were, but something moves behind them. Something that is not the thing trying to kill her.
Marin stills, every instinct sharpening.
“You’re in there,” she says, her voice quieter now, steady in a way that does not match the chaos of the moment.
For a fraction of a heartbeat, his expression wavers.
“Blink twice if you hear me, Kael,” she begs, voice rasping from the pressure.
He stares.
One heartbeat.
Two.
Then he blinks.
She waits.
Desperate.
His grip loosens just a fraction.
Just enough.
She doesn’t hesitate. She presses the vial to his lips again, her hand steady now despite the tremor still running through her body.
“Come back,” she murmurs. “Another blink.”
He parts his lips like he wants the Shadelock. Like it can save him. Like he wants it to.
“Elyssara,” Marin grits out, saying the only thing she can think of to bring him back.
He stills. Not releasing the pressure, but pausing enough that…
He blinks, strained and forced like he’s fighting against a force that wants him submissive. But it’s real.
“Survive for her,” Marin begs, still clawing at his hands, and still shoving the Shadelock at his lips.
He growls, loud and pained.
But his hands let her go, and he drops to his knees once more.
And that is enough.
