Page 252 of May: Bloom & Bane

A crack echoes through the canyon. The vine shudders in my grip and begins to drop.

Ash, we’re sinking, Sage rasps as we plunge closer to the frozen rocks. It’s trying to lower us onto the spikes!

The runes flare brighter, numbing magic clawing its way up my arms, freezing my muscles so I’ll release my grip.

“Sage,” I choke out, my feet dangling only a few yards above the razor-sharp tips.

The ledges, he breathes. Look at the canyon wall behind us! We can’t swing forward anymore—but if we drop right now, the force of the fall will carry us backward.

“They’re ready to crumble,” I grit out.

It’s our only option.

His voice sharpens. On my count! Three… two…

“One!”

I release my fingers. Air screams past my skull as the ledges rush up to meet us. I twist mid-fall, slamming my shoulder into the nearest ledge instead of my feet. Stone explodes under the impact, fractures racing through the rock. We rebound hard, and my body is thrown backward off the crumbling ledge. I catch the next ledge with one arm, rock tearing down my shoulder as I hook on.

Sage yells something I can’t make out. The canyon opens its mouth beneath me. I hang there as the ledge continues to collapse.

Sage goes quiet all of a sudden.

No, not quiet—missing.

CHAPTER 76

my ash’kaela

—SAGE

Ashán! I scream, phantom muscles straining against the agony radiating from his shredded shoulder. Answer me!

I roar his name into the void, but the echo comes back empty. His love for Eden. The pain of his skelva splitting against the stone. His feral determination.

Gone.

It’s like being locked in a deprivation tank while the house is on fire. I am still here, anchored to our soul, but the windows have been blacked out.

No, no, no. Not now. Not when we’re this close.

I beat against the walls of his consciousness, trying to force my own strength through the fracture between us.

Wake up. Wake up, Ash!

But this damned curse has pulled him under again, swallowing his awareness… swallowing our time.

Ashán! If you don’t answer me⁠—

“You’ll what?”

The voice that comes out of our mouth isn’t his. It’s hollow and cold, devoid of every rough edge that makes Ashán… Ashán.

The lungs we share draw a long, measured breath. His skelva tighten against the ledge, and no pain comes back through the bond like it has this whole time.

Ashán! I scream.

He pauses, his head turning slowly as if to search for my voice.