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Her entire body was burning up, yet chills stabbed through her bones.

A soft weight pressed down on her, and she realized she’d been covered with another blanket.

That spark within her seemed smaller than before. It writhed furiously, as though fighting exsanguination. She suddenly became aware of a slithering foreign power, malicious in nature, invasive. Somehow knowledge was gifted onto her. She’d drawn that perilous spell out of Orik and into her. Her magic was fighting it off, like a virus. As the light from that spark dulled even more, she wondered if this battle was one she could win.

“Come back to me, beauty,” she heard Orik whisper. He was alive. Joy sprouted in her, and she vowed with her very last fiber to return to him.

* * *

Orik patted Jessie’s cheek. Burning heat seeped into his fingers. Her fever wasn’t breaking. After replacing the cool washcloth on her forehead, he clasped her hand in his. “You must get well, lass. I’m sorry for treating you as I did.”

From her customary spot curled up at Jessie’s side, Phoenix lifted her head with a haughty glare. Orik could swear the little fuzzball was admonishing him with that look. “Just be grateful I let you remain, beast.”

The morning after the attack, the creature had appeared on his balcony, scratching at the double doors for entry…because it had scaled the side of the castle. Before her arrival, Jessie had been thrashing fitfully, as if in sleep she was fending off…something. A foe Orik could neither see nor defeat. But when Phoenix appeared, Jessie had relaxed for the first time. So for her sake, he’d quelled his fear of the little terror and allowed her in. Phoenix had immediately bound to the bed and planted herself next to Jessie like a miniature guardian.

For a while, Orik wasn’t sure if the lema would even allow him near, but after he’d presented her with a snack of grilled fish, a tenuous truce had formed between them.

The lema licked her paw and then laid her head back down.

Orik returned his attention to Jessie. The shadow fanning out over her skin was lessening by the day, and he grew more confident she would pull through. When he’d realized what she’d done, saving his life and endangering her own by taking on the consequences of that deadly spell, he’d been racked with guilt over his earlier mistrust. She’d put herself in harm’s way for him. If she’d been associated with those witches, she never would have done that. Would she?

Seeing her so near death, nearly succumbing to that killing spell, had been the most grueling torment of his life. He’d return to the tortures of his childhood a thousand times over if it could take away her pain.

Edel seemed to have figured out his feelings before he himself had. As they were wrapping up their post attack meeting, Prince Gideon had offered to take Jessie back to her cell and attempted to take her from him. He’d held Jessie tightly and growled, “Over my dead body.”

Prince Gideon had raised a brow at that. “I understand you must feel grateful to her, but—”

Edel had swiftly intervened. “Orik will watch over the girl for now. Besides, I’ll no’ dishonor the girl who saved my son’s life by depositing her in a dungeon thereafter.”

Prince Gideon had blustered for a while and then looked to the others for support, but found none. Although they were all wary of Jessie’s newly revealed powers, especially Tristan, they agreed with Edel. By saving Orik, Jessie had earned their trust.

That didn’t stop Prince Gideon from stopping by to prevail upon him the importance of security and offering to take on the task of securing the kingdom while he tended to “the witch.”

Growing increasingly irritated with Gideon’s visits, Orik had informed the prince that everything was under control and he should focus his attention elsewhere, resisting the urge to add, “Before I knock your intrusive ass into the next kingdom.”

The castle was still on high alert, and his soldiers worked together like a well-oiled machine. Prince Gideon would only gum up the works.

While Orik remained at Jessie’s bedside, he’d issued new state-of-the-art communicators to all his men so that he could be reached at any time if needed, but he didn’t expect another attack so soon…though he did expect one at some point. They’d taken out most of the witches in that coven, but those who had managed to escape would be back in force, of that he had no doubt.

He ran his thumb over the glyph on her hand. Part of him suspected the witch who’d marked Jessie had been behind the ambush. None who had been present had fit his description, however. Although the coward could have stayed safely outside, waiting to see if his minions accomplished their grisly task. If he was the mastermind, he’d know by now that they hadn’t succeeded.

Suddenly her fingers curled in his, and his head jerked up. That was new. He grasped her hand tighter. “Jessie? Are you waking up?”

Her brows knit together, and she let out a little groan.

“That’s it, baby. Come back.”

“Orik?” Her voice sounded weak and raspy.

“I’m here,” he assured. “You’re safe.”

“What…what happened?” She squinted her eyes open and blinked at him, those hazel irises sparkling with life. It made for a sight too beautiful for words. Then her gaze dipped to his bare torso. His attire over the last several days had mostly consisted of loose linen pants and nothing else.

“You saved me from a spell that would have extinguished my life, but it nearly took yours instead. How are you feeling?”

She paused for a moment, as if mentally assessing herself. “Groggy. Is everyone else all right?”

“No lasting damage.”

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