26. Raven #3
I screamed. Screamed for all the aches racing through my body. Screamed for all the afflicted lost to their lives and trapped in the pit. Screamed for all the frustrations attempting to work with the Crown and solve the demon reap.
And with my screams, the fire on my skin abated.
The ground beneath me cooled, then it froze, and a mist bloomed all around me. The haze of the pit began to match the haze in my head, because my body…my body was giving in to the pressure and pain. I was holding on to conscious thought with a whisper.
Beyond the thrumming at my temples, I recognized a pounding at the oversized doors. Hits against metal accompanied by the guards’ shouts and Winter’s hollers.
Was the prince trying to come to my rescue? Save me from General Beckett’s experiment? His magic surrounded me, weakened as it was, and how could that be? Wasn’t he still wearing the binding shackles?
His magic should not be in play, unless…
Somewhere, someone shouted my name. Someone who wasn’t Winter. And the afflicteds were parting, creating a path for another―the Killian.
I was outside the palace protections and wholly primed. As promised, he was coming to take my life.
I averted my gaze. My head complained with the movement, but I didn’t want to watch his haughty approach. Instead, I stared at the glass roof through the flailing of limbs that encroached on my view.
A cloud of night and stars shot across my view, and the world around me burst into darkness and ice, explosions, grunts, and bellows.
I closed my eyes and gave myself to the chaos.
“Raven.”
My name whispered across my skin. Warmth brushed along my hairline, my temple.
“Come on, Black Bird. Open your eyes.”
Chace?
Chace is here?
Had he saved me or come to claim me?
Something about that last thought didn’t sit right with my groggy mind.
Oh, right.
Chace couldn’t claim or transition my soul. Only the Killian could do that, because I was a reaper. So, a reapers’ reaper would be required.
Which meant…I wasn’t dead. Not yet anyway.
“Please.” A hint of begging cracked Chace’s tone. “Don’t stay away. Open your eyes and come back to me.”
I struggled to open my eyes. For him, I wished to drag against the weight and gaze into his stormy, captivating irises, confront whatever emotions I detected in his voice. But my body felt leaden, my muscles flaccid, and my eyes crusted and heavy.
“Please.” His lips brushed the hollow of my ear, his breath skating along the curve of my neck.
I groaned and forced my eyes open with a flutter of lashes.
“There you are.” His voice was barely a murmur, his smile a mixture of elation and sorrow. “You had me scared there for a minute.”
My heart squeezed…and hurt…and I wasn’t sure if it was for him or me.
“Or several.”
The comment drew my gaze over Chace’s shoulder to Winter.
The prince loomed over us, sweat dappling his brow and appearing every bit unsure of what to do with his body. He smiled at me, the expression not even remotely reaching his eyes, then he glanced toward a nearby shout. General Beckett and his men, I supposed, yelled orders all around us.
But…
“The Killian?” I asked, my voice hoarse and weak.
“Not a present worry.” Chace slid his arms beneath me and hauled me to his chest, lifted. “Let’s get you somewhere comfortable and safe.”
The shouts grew louder, but everything beyond Chace was a swill of noise. Indistinguishable and unimportant. I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my head against his chest, finding peace for my aching muscles in the steady beat of his heart.
“Um…Chace,” Winter said, and Chace shifted directions.
My body swayed with his motion as I gave myself to his care and closed my eyes.
“Here.” Chace shifted my weight. “Take her someplace safe.”
Something inside of me startled. Whimpered and cried. But I had no fight left to give, much less strength to cry out in protest.
Chace transferred my care to Winter, the chill of his embrace replacing the warmth of my fellow reaper’s hold.
With me in his arms, Winter rushed toward the exit, leaving Chace behind. I peered over Winter’s shoulder, watching as the guards forced Chace to his knees. I wanted to yell, race to his rescue as he had done for me, but I had nothing. Nothing but my slipping attention.
As long as I could hold my eyes open, I watched him. Gave him my witness. He appeared to gaze back, his pleading eyes seeming to say, Go. I’ll be all right.
“You shouldn’t be here,” General Beckett said to Winter. “Everything that transpired here today will go down in my report.”
Winter laughed half-heartedly. “I would expect nothing less. And for the record, I do not approve of what you did here.”
General Beckett scoffed. “It is not your approval I seek, nor your authority by which I am commanded.”
The guards hauled Chace to his feet. Moved him through the crowd of afflicted toward the warehouse door.
“Indeed.” Winter walked us out of the warehouse and into the street, beyond sight of Chace.
Winter spoke to me—I was sure of it—but without the sight of Chace to hold me above water, my consciousness quickly dragged me under, where nothing but night shadows and stars surrounded my world.