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“I’m… fine…” Cole forced out while I held him up, one palm on his chest, the other woven between his own to support him.
“If you’re fine, I’m a panther shifter,” I snapped, the fear that currently squeezed at my throat doing a number on my normally immaculate bedside manner.
She appraised Cole with a quick, experienced glance. “You can heal him better than I can.”
“We never learned how to do that!” I protested.
She shook her head. “You already healed yourself once. It’s a natural formation of your magic. Trust yourself, Soteria.”
Cole sagged in my grip. I set him down and sent a worried glance back to the enchantress.
“Concentrate on your magic. Let it find the wound and heal him,” she advised. “Start by placing your hands on his body and then focus.”
My magic was running on fumes after the battle, but collapsing in exhaustion wasn’t an option. I shifted my attention back to Cole. His eyes were cracked, the slits of yellow barely seeing. As gently as I could, I opened up his shredded vest and set my hands on his chest. The blood had soaked the garment through. The warmth of his blood coated my fingertips. I wanted to hurl. Instead, I forced out a ragged breath and shut my eyes.
When I’d healed myself before, it had been out of necessity. It had been imperative I rescue Daphne from the Moon-Ghost pack cells.
Now, I had to save Cole. Letting him die was not an option.
I focused on my memories of Cole, trying to guide my magic to him. To push it into him. Memories of training with him.His smirk when he teased me. His eyes when they were filled with silent laughter. The protective way he’d murdered countless foes to keep me safe. The way he drove me crazy when training, even though it was all in service to keep me safe. The way he’d held his arm out for me to escort me to the ball. The brush of his fingers on my neck when I was half-asleep. The hundred times he’d appeared in my dreams, my only constant comfort in a ruthless pack. The way he made me want to live life to the fullest, not just accept whatever happened, but to stand up and fight.Just as I would fight this injury and bring him back to me.
As I pushed the memories, the magic, into him, something ricocheted back into me. A bridge between us opened.
Images and foreign emotions assailed me.Me, across a thousand dreams over the years. The fury when I confided how my packmates mistreated me. The sorrow when I confidently declared I would find my moon-matched mate. The lust that roared through him when he pleasured me, tinged with resignation that it could only be a dream. The surprise at finding me in his bedroom. The way I looked in his clothes. The time he’d given me ugly clothes in a fruitless effort to tamp down his desire for me. The amusement that tickled him when we bantered back and forth in training. Pride when I’d defeated the Leo demon. Bone-freezing fear when I’d been petrified. A mix of anger, respect, and fear when I’d poisoned him and escaped the realm. A thousand emotions that constantly warred within him—a ruthless need to tear anyone who wronged me limb from limb and a desire that burned brighter than I ever could’ve imagined.A kaleidoscope of images flashed through my mind—my hair wet from the shower, my skin slick with sweat from training, my content smile as I curled into a chair in the library to read, unaware that he watched me from the shadows. My wolf running through the woods. My fingers sparking with power. My eyes pleading for him to take me, to claim me, in the woods.
And beneath it all was an emotion far, far stronger than any of those. To call it love was an insult. Experiencing it secondhand was like drowning in a raindrop.
“You saved the king,” Hecate said, snapping the telepathic link between Cole and me. “You’ve saved us all, Avery.”
I jerked back. There was Cole, amber eyes open and fixed on my own. At once, it was obvious that the bridge between us had gone both ways.
For a moment, it was only the two of us.
Then, a movement in the periphery caught my attention. I stood as I turned, Cole rising by my side with ease, as if he’d never been injured.
A hundred soldiers faced me, and at Hecate’s declaration, as one, they knelt.
“Soteria,” Hecate called out, but not to me.
The soldiers echoed, facing me, still kneeling. “Soteria.” Then again. “Soteria! Soteria! Soteria!”
I stepped back, stunned, and knocked into Cole.
“What does it mean?” I asked him softly.
His eyes glowed with pride. “It means ‘savior.’”
Weeventuallybrokeawayfrom the throng of soldiers. Hecate could handle the aftermath. The dragon had flown off, and no one seemed worried, so I took that as a positive sign.
It was a good thing too, because I was about a hairsbreadth from passing out on the roof.
It was impossible to look at Cole the same way since I’d healed him. The flood of emotions was a heady mix. Was it really possible he could feel the same way? The never-ending desire, the craving, theneed… He walked now, unconcerned that his shirt was torn to shreds and dried blood had crusted around every inch of exposed skin. I hadn’t seen a mirror, but I wasn’t much better. Yet even now, he looked perfect. Or even better, like battle-honed Cole was his natural state. The tattoo wrapped around his back was on full display, and I wanted to wipe away the blood that marred its edges.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll take you against the wall and make you scream loud enough for the entire castle to hear,” Cole said casually, without turning to face me.
I flushed, suddenly not feeling tired at all.
“Just let me wash off the blood first,” I said. It was meant to come out as a joke.
