Chapter 42 Mortal
~ YILAN ~
A sparkling, searing heat appeared in my chest, in the same moment Melek hunched. And before the image of my mate standing with a spear sticking from his chest became real to me, I felt it. A trickle, then a pour—not of blood, but of life.
Melek suffered a mortal wound.
My soul jolted as I leaped forward, but everything felt slow, like running through water.
I watched as, in excruciating, sluggish detail, Melek stumbled a half-step, made a strangled noise, then grabbed the handle of the spear just below the wicked, foot-long blade, where it protruded from his shirt, positioned oh-so-accurately right between his ribs.
“JANN! NOOOOO!”
Still pushing through clinging mud, my head turned instinctively to see Diadre’s tormented face, lined and pale, as she grabbed for her mate.
Jann stood frozen, holding the end of the spear—his eyes too big, his body trembling—as Melek’s muscles flexed and he inexorably yanked it from his chest, dropping the weapon to the carpet.
Then, my precious mate lifted his hand to that spot in his chest suddenly pouring red. “Holy shit…” he croaked. “T-too deep.”
He sagged to his knees, and time returned to its normal passing—far, far too fast.
Jann dropped the spear with a thud, then caught Diadre as she threw herself at him, screaming, pummeling him with her fists.
“No! No! NO!”
Her torment was nothing alongside the horror now painting my skin, as I threw myself to the floor next to Melek, who swayed on his knees and began to topple.
I tried to catch him, desperately scrambling to remember what I’d been taught was the correct response in the field to a stab wound to the chest—shit, we should have left the spear in. Do I lay him on his side, or his back?
My hands trembled so hard, it took two tries to grasp his shirt—my breath shuddering. But, I was too late. Melek tipped heavily onto his back, his legs folded and bent, pushed sideways by his awkward fall. His hands flapped weakly.
“Melek! Melek, look at me!” Instead he only stared at the ceiling, choking, and no matter how I struggled, I couldn’t lift him or turn him. “Jann,” I gasped. “Jann, help me!”
But when I turned to look, Jann just stared, his eyes wide and unseeing. He stumbled back, pulling Diadre with him, who wept an ocean, still pounding him with her fists.
Diadre was not a weak woman. Jann was forced to catch her wrists, and manacle them in his hands to stop her—but he never took his eyes from Melek.
Hands pressed to Melek’s wound, I leaned on him to keep the pressure as firm as I was capable, and searched his eyes, pleading with him to see me. Deep in my chest, I could feel Melek draining away.
Panic. Pure, undiluted panic.
“Yesss…”
The insidious hiss came from Lucifer.
My head snapped up. He stood over this scene, eyes bright and his smile lascivious. Then his eyes snapped to mine and locked, and his smile broadened.
In my fear, only one thought screamed in my head.
The power of life and death.
For one, endless moment, I grasped—he can do it. He can save Melek like he did Gall—but the moment I opened my mouth with the plea on my tongue, I saw him.
The Fallen stood aside in this carnage—friends, brothers killing each other. Panic and fear. Mates devastated. Hearts darkened—and his expression was nothing short of delight.
The sight of Melek’s impending death, and Jann’s devastation pleased him. It threw fuel on the fire in his eyes, and sparked ecstasy.
The avid gleam, the hunger in his eyes, the pleasure at the sight of Melek dying, and Jann’s terror, made me recoil.
Then, my precious mate’s deep, ragged voice echoed in my head.
‘Even death isn’t worth giving yourself to him. Don’t give in. If it’s meant to be…’
His voice in my head faded, and my terror shot to the skies. “MELEK!”
But he couldn’t focus. He blinked over and over, and there was a smear of blood on his lips.
I wept, leaning over him, my palms still pressed to that wound, but helpless to do anything but watch him fade.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, it registered that Gall roared, and Diadre’s screams hadn’t stopped. The room was in chaos—except for the frozen Jann, and Lucifer’s quivering delight.
Then, without warning, a small, warm hand landed on my shoulder, where I sobbed on Melek’s chest, and urged me to straighten, and a quiet voice murmured, “I can help.”
I flinched, turned, to find Istral—very pale and eyes wide, her hands shaking, settling to her knees next to me.
Her pale throat jumped over and over, like she swallowed nausea, but after meeting my stunned eyes, she reached for my hands and moved them aside, then placed her soft, sweet palms over Melek’s wound.
“Istral… he’s dying,” I croaked.
She nodded, but licked her lips.
I couldn’t let myself hope. “Can you… is it… but if it’s Lucifer’s power, Melek wouldn’t want—”
Istral shook her head and looked down at Melek’s face, her worried expression meaning she didn’t have words.
She glanced at me, and I felt Melek draining away. New tears blurred my vision and I covered my mouth, weeping. “If you can… Istral... Please!”
My sister swallowed again and nodded, but she didn’t speak. Instead, hands still braced on Melek’s chest, she leaned over and began to murmur in his ear.
I couldn’t hear her whispers over the shouts and wails behind me. I wanted to scream at them to shut up!
Then Melek convulsed. Heels drumming, his hands flailed.
I gasped and grabbed for him, sparking with hope—but then my mate dropped to stillness. When I grabbed his hand, it was deathly cold.
No.
No.
Please. You have to save him, I prayed. Please!
Istral didn’t move, her hands remaining flat on his chest, she continued to whisper in his ear. I clung to Melek’s hand, and pleaded with God for his life, but I was already half-convinced he was dead. The warmth in that space in my chest that was him, slowly began to cool, and shrink…
For seconds, nothing changed, and my heart sank.
Suddenly, just as my sobs threatened to overwhelm me, I felt it.
A warm seeping. A flare of heat. Then cool washing through the bond—and in my chest, too.
I froze. “Melek?” I breathed. He couldn’t have heard me over Gall’s roaring, but Istral kept whispering, too.
Then his hand twitched in mine.
I swallowed a cry, and grabbed for him as the milling chaos around us faded. I closed my eyes, and dropped my forehead to his stomach, gripping that hand, and reached for him in the bond—pleading with him not to leave me. Not to leave any of us.
Melek twitched again, and I barely dared hope. There was a new flare of heat in the bond—something in him searching for life—and a rush of something… adrenaline? Some warmth returned to his palm. Then his stomach moved and he gave a great, gasping choke.
I froze, hugging his body, afraid to even—
‘I love you, Yilan.’
With a cry of sheer release, I broke down. I buried my face in his belly and held him, my arms not even reaching around him. His hand, fumbling and trembling, came to rest on the back of my shoulder, as I pleaded with him in the bond to live, and begged God to keep him here.
Istral hadn’t moved. She continued whispering.
A final flare of heat… then the coolness in the bond… then nothing.
Panicking again, I pushed up to look at him, but Istral sat back, her eyes red and her cheeks crimson, despite the rest of her seeming so pale she was almost blue.
She sat back on her heels and lifted her hands from Melek’s chest—then looked at them, covered in blood.
Like a terrified child, her eyes went round and she gave a cry, turning, raising her hands to Gall who rushed forward and swept her up, running her out of the room and back to their bedchamber.
Confused and afraid, I looked between them and Lucifer, then down at Melek.
My heart sank like a stone. She failed?
I should have known, Lucifer wouldn’t heal his enemy—
A thick, calloused hand landed on my thigh, and I sucked in a clawing breath.
Melek’s eyes opened, and he stared up at me as he pushed himself up to sit, then pulled me into his chest.
I threw myself at him, sobbing and scared and ecstatic all at once. He hugged me so tightly I could barely breathe. But I didn’t care.
I clawed a hand into his hair, and held him to me, whispering my love through numb lips, thick with tears, and thanked God that his chest rumbled with his responses.
Then I opened my eyes, and found Lucifer staring at us… smiling. Beaming, though his eyes gleamed with that sick, evil delight.
When he caught me staring, he licked his lips and turned to look after Istral and Gall.
“I knew she could do it. She’s truly mine.”
I gripped Melek tighter, a whole new wave of terror gripping me, but also impossibly grateful that Melek was there and breathing and no longer bleeding…
Still, something inside me went cold as Melek and I held each other.
Had that really been Lucifer’s power?
What did it mean if it was?