Page 181 of May: Bloom & Bane

Vaelína pulses happily, drinking down the protective weight of my magic.

“The creature realized his darkness wasn’t a curse,” I whisper. “It was just a place to keep his flower safe.”

Vaelína takes one last, deep pull of my shadow, her bright presence growing heavy and slow with sleep.

She’s full.

It’s time to let go.

But as I try to pull my tether back, my soul rebels furiously.

Everything inside me screams to stay, to wrap them both in an impenetrable cocoon of night and never let them go.

The ache of withdrawing my shadow feels like tearing out my own veins. I am starving for Eden, trembling with the effort it takes to peel myself away from the warmth of my family.

I linger for one agonizing second longer, brushing a silent kiss against the bond.

“Sleep now, míní. (Little one) I will always guard the dark for you.”

CHAPTER 53

both your daddies are just sleeping

—SAGE

“Did Damien say if he was coming back today?” Eden asks as we sit in the center of the greenhouse, letting the baby drink in the magic of the vines wrapped around her belly.

I keep my hands deep in the soil beneath us, forcing my breathing to remain steady. It takes a ridiculous amount of concentration. My core feels like a bed of hot coals. I haven’t been able to cool it down the last few days.

Hold it together. She has enough to carry.

“He didn’t say, Saevúra,” I rasp, my throat feeling like sandpaper. I clear it quickly, offering what I hope is a reassuring smile. “But he’s been here every day since the Horsemen ordeal, so I’m sure he will be.”

She nods, her eyes remaining fixed on the vines cradling her midsection. She lifts a slice of melon, then drops it back onto the plate.

“You need to eat something,” I murmur, nudging the plate closer to her knee. “Please?”

Her shoulders drop. “I will, Sage. I’m just… not really hungry.”

I press my palms deeper into the soil and let the cool dark draw some of the heat out of me, just enough that she won’t feel it bleed across the bond. The moment my magic sinks back into the earth, a white-hot spike drives straight through my left temple. My mind is yanked from the soil, dragged backward through a freezing void until the smell of loam and jasmine is swallowed by the crisp scent of clove and frost. The world that forms around me is brutal. Endless white flurries. Heavy drifts of snow pull at my legs. The cold sinks its teeth into a body that feels entirely different from my own. Ahead of me, darting through the branches, is a flash of dark hair.

Is she running from me, or to me?

I push forward through the storm, and a massive cabin looms amidst the blizzard; its wooden logs are blackened with age, and its curved roof is half-buried under a thick blanket of snow. Smoke pours from the chimney into the night sky.

Why does this feel so familiar?

Before I can step any closer, a shimmering glow floats down from the sky. The howling wind drops to a dead silence. The cabin, the winter, and the dark-haired woman all dissolve into a cloud of gold dust. The cold bites one last time before there’s nothing but the scent of cotton candy and the deep weight of sleep pulling me down.

—EDEN

Sage has his hands buried wrist-deep in the soil. His breathing is slow in the careful way he thinks I haven’t noticed yet. Every plant in the greenhouse recoils at once.

“Sage—”

His spine arches, and his eyes roll back until there’s nothing but white. His breath comes in panicked bursts.

“It’s okay,” I breathe, reaching into the pocket of my dress where the little pouch now lives. I’ve learned how fast things escalate. “I’ve got you, Vaelí. It’s all going to get better in just a second.”