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She’s near. On the other side of this wall, I sense her profound exhaustion. I let out a sigh, releasing some of the anxiety that had been weighing on me, knowing that she’s safe.
“She’s resting. Whatever you guys did, I’m in awe. All the servants and guards fled when the fire broke out. When he died, my bonds were broken, and I came to find you two both collapsed on the floor in that room…,”
“What happened? How were you fixed?”
The red-headed shifter gives a casual, lackluster shrug. The lackadaisical gesture bothers me to my very core, and I grit my teeth against my annoyance.
“Yurghen healed me the first week. I was unconscious for most of it, but I came to and could shift back and forth again. He had me bound in a dungeon room. Studying a shifting Shard was very exciting for him.”
He averts his eyes to the ground, shifting his weight uncomfortably at the thought. I groan slightly, nodding my head as I recall my encounter with Yurghen’s studies. The Third appears unharmed, as far as I can tell.
“So what happened? How did you guys manage to do that? I’ve been dying to know.”
“I did and saw nothing. It must have been Mira,” I reply, my voice tinged with incredulity as the full weight of her accomplishment sinks in. Bobble lets out a sharp whistle. Yurghen, being multi-chromatic and far more powerful and knowledgeable than Mira, leaves me wondering what else could have occurred…
“Take me to her. I need to see her,” I rise, but Bobble protests.
“You need to rest and recover. You’re completely drained. Based on the amount of blood I found around you, your body had to use a lot of its own energy to heal itself, even aided by Chroma.”
The thought of being weak is unbearable.
I sit up, glaring defiantly at Bobble.
I refuse to be coddled by this dumb cat.
However, deep down, I know that the Third is right. There is still so much to be done, and we need to leave this place quickly in case the guards return. Reluctantly, I lay back down, releasing a sigh that comes across as a petulant huff.
Bobble promptly brings me tea and some broth to eat. He helps me clean up before providing me with fresh clothes to change into.
Settling back into the bed, I note the tension hanging in the air between us. What will change between Mira and me now thathe’saround?
I push the thoughts away as sleep consumes me once more.
Chapter Forty-One
Mira
I wake suddenly, a sense of someone else’s presence in the room with me. The chirping of birds outside and the crackling of a small fire fill my ears. Soft blankets surround me, but an intense headache throbs relentlessly. I stifle a groan as I strive to open my eyes against the harsh sunlight.
Movement catches my attention, and I expect to see Sunder, but it is Bobble who kneels by my bedside. A smile forms on my lips as he gazes at me with tear-filled eyes.
“A Dreamshare?” My voice comes out croaky and dry. Bobble shakes his head, a smile lighting up his face as he offers me a sip of warm tea. Its fragrant herbs soothe my parched throat.
“No, I’ve been restored. I can shift again,” he whispers softly, his amber eyes gleaming in the sunlight. His face radiates warmth and love, and I can’t help but bask in his presence for a fleeting moment as I smile at him.
But as my memories come rushing back, my smile fades, replaced by panic and fear. I try to speak, but my throat tightens, rendering me speechless. Sensing my distress, Bobble tenderly brushes my hair with his hand, offering a comforting gesture.
“Everything is okay. Sunder is recovering. You are going to be fine. You just need some rest. We’re all safe now.”
His voice carries a soothing tone. His big hands are gentle as he moves them over my body, like he’s reassuring himself that I’m alive.
“You saved us, Mira. Whatever you did. You saved us,” he whispers.
He grins at me, and slowly, I process his words. My heart pounds faster, and my breath becomes ragged. It feels as if a heavyweight rests on my chest, threatening to suffocate me. The panic builds inside, consuming my thoughts.
I recall the agonized screams of Yurghen as I unleashed my fiery wrath upon him, the stench of burning books and flesh filling my nostrils. The vision of dancing flames flickers before my eyes, causing me to fight back the urge to vomit. I try to remind myself that my actions were justified, to steel myself against the overwhelming guilt and nausea. Before… at home, I wouldn’t even harm a bug.
Tears stream down my face as the panic attack courses through me, reaching its crescendo.
