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Solia’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Craving isn’t what almost killed me in the Maaqul. This illness I’ve had for months…it was never Craving at all.”
Solia got up and rounded the table to kneel beside Cassia, taking her hand. Her grip was bracing. The kind of touch that made someone feel brave. Cassia was so angry that she didn’t want to draw comfort from it. But she did.
“I’ve been sick from the lack of my magic,” Cassia said. “All this time. If not for Lio, I would have become like Pakhne already…or worse. We didn’t even realize it, but I’ve been absorbing his magic. He’s not killing me, Solia. He is keeping me alive.”
The color had drained from Solia’s face. She held Cassia’s hand as if she would never let her go. She must be imagining all the possibilities Cassia herself had thought through.
Finally she released Cassia’s hand and stood. “I will trouble you no longer. When Lio is able, if he would be willing to speak with me, tell him I would be very grateful for the opportunity to apologize to him.”
She traversed out of the room, leaving behind a whiff of burning silk.
ANY SACRIFICE
The next moments alone with Lio were deceptively peaceful. The flow of his magic into her body settled into a resting current, as soothing as the sight of him sleeping on her lap.
So this appetite of hers wore many guises. A ravenous frenzy. A gentle embrace. It would be so easy to let it fool her into believing it wasn’t wrong.
Nothing would ever make it right that she had not shown Lio’s Will the same care as he had given hers. All she could do was sit here and continue to commit this crime against the person she loved more than anyone.
When Rudhira returned, Lio’s uncle was with him. Argyros took a chair next to Cassia. “We decided I should be here when he wakes.”
“Thank you,” Cassia said. “That’s what he would want.”
Uncle Argyros took her hand. She was grateful for that steady hand, but didn’t feel deserving of it at the moment.
Here was the philosopher, the thelemancer, the ancient Hesperine who had taught Lio never to break the fragile Will of mortals. Did he know what Cassia had done?
“I sense your inner debate,” Uncle Argyros said. “Rudhira told me what you have learned about your magic.”
She tried to find words, but it was too difficult to articulate her remorse.
“I will say only this.” There was no judgment in Uncle Argyros’s voice. “Had I found myself in such a situation with Lyta, I would sacrifice every last drop of my magic for her, if that was what she needed from me. It is the nature of Grace.”
“Even if you didn’t know?”
“My only regret would be not knowing her life was in danger.”
“Thank you.” She squeezed his hand. “But I need to know how Lio feels.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll wake him now.” Rudhira laid a hand on Lio’s head.
Lio stirred. His long, dark lashes rose, and he looked up at Cassia with his beautiful blue eyes.
“How do you feel?” she asked softly.
He frowned. “There are eighty layers of residual emotion in this room for which I have no context. Someone was having yet another important conversation while I was unconscious.”
Rudhira gave a wry smile. “This scrollworm’s jaw is healed enough for him to speak. That’s an excellent sign.”
Uncle Argyros breathed a sigh of relief and a prayer.
Lio muttered, “I insist everyone stop discussing momentous topics while I am a useless heap nearby.”
Cassia was still too worried to tell him just what an endearing heap of fangs he was. “I insist you stop getting yourself injured.”
