CHAPTER 52
Draevyn
The potion burned down Draevyn’s throat like molten lead, and then Esmyra’s pain consumed him the moment it slipped past her lips.
It wasn’t sharp like the slice of a blade, but a rotting ache, wrapping around every joint and rib until he could hardly breathe. It felt as if something inside him was slowly chewing its way out. He couldn’t even fathom how she’d been living with it for weeks at this point.
It was everywhere, like an invisible weight was dragging him under. Needles pricked along his nerves in rhythm with the deep, pulsing throb until his vision blackened at the edges.
But through it all, he kept his gaze on Esmyra. Because her face… It was easing. That was relief he saw in those glacial eyes.
Her ragged, shallow breathing now came smoother. The tightness in her features was softening and the tremor in her fingers stilled. The pain that had been carved into every line of her perfect face… vanished. She blinked, and for the first time since he’d rescued her, her eyes weren’t clouded.
And gods, the sight of it made every second of this agony worth it. He’d take every wave of torment if it meant she’d never wear that hollow look again.
Even as his knees buckled under the weight of her suffering, there was a strange peace settling into him. Because now she was safe, and he could finally be of use to her.
Through the blur of it, he watched Jenli move. Her hands were frantic, muttering with urgency as the black veins beneath Esmyra’s skin writhed like living snakes. She took up the blade again, pressing it just above the source of it all.
And when the steel cut in, his whole world ignited.
It tore through his back like liquid fire, every nerve screaming—that strange living corruption within her twisting inside him now. He felt as they thrashed, clawing to burrow deeper into her flesh. The air left his lungs in a hiss, his hands clenching so hard his nails bit into his palms.
“Drae.” Esmyra’s head lifted weakly, her lips parting. “Give it back to me—”
“No,” he cut her off. “Not for a second.”
Her back was a ruin of torn skin and smeared red. Blood poured in dark, glistening rivers, spilling over her sides and soaking the quilt beneath her, each drop making his gut twist tighter.
Every instinct screamed to shove Jenli away from her, to stop this before she drained the life out of her, but he forced himself to stay rooted.
Jenli dug deeper and his body jolted. He could feel her every movement as though her hands were inside his spine. Something sharp scraped bone—fucking Irah, he could hear it—and then a jolt of torment shot down his legs. If he wasn’t already kneeling, he would’ve easily collapsed by now.
A rawness clawed its way up his throat, and he thought he was going to scream. It swelled in his chest, desperate to break free as the sensation threatened to tear him apart, but he swallowed it down with everything he had.
If Esmyra heard it, if she knew just how much pain it caused, she’d worry and likely lash out to get him to stop. And he refused to let her carry even a fraction more than she already had.
“I’ve got the shard!” Jenli screeched.
“Hurry!” Jak bellowed from across the room. Several footsteps sounded on the stairs then. “Get the fuck out of here! The lot of ya!”
The crew must’ve finally come to investigate.
“Fuck,” Esmyra muttered.
The moment Jenli’s fingers clamped around the shard, something in Draevyn tightened, bracing himself for the final blow.
When she pulled, it was as if barbed hooks were being dragged through each of his vertebrae, scraping every nerve on their way out.
His breath locked in his chest as he thought he was about to lose consciousness.
But then it suddenly broke.
Draevyn’s vision blurred and slowed as he watched the shard get torn free with a wet, sickening snap.
The pain didn’t vanish all at once, but ebbed in waves, each receding pull leaving him lighter.
The thrashing under his skin eased, until all that was left was a subtle throb and the dizzying relief that it was finally over.
Jenli’s voice cut through the haze of his thoughts. “Draevyn! Your blood is needed to heal her, or it will expand once more.”
His head snapped up, heart hammering in his throat as he climbed to his feet. The shard lay discarded, slick and glistening in Esmyra’s blood on the table beside her, but the black veins remained.
Draevyn ripped a dagger free from his hip before dragging the blade across his palm. Blood welled instantly, bright against the steel. “It’s almost over, Wildfire.”
He pressed his bleeding hand over the wounds carved into her back. His blood seeped into them, mingling with hers in a sickening warmth as it dripped down her curves.
Take it, he begged in his mind. This needs to work. She needs to live.
His jaw clenched as he poured every ounce of will into the act, as if force alone could make her body accept his offering.
For a breathless moment, nothing happened. Then, finally, the black veins began to pull back, retreating to the sight of the wound before dissolving into nothing.
“Holy fucking Irah,” he breathed.
“What’s happening?” Esmyra asked as she tried to peer over her shoulder.
Neither Draevyn, Jenli, or Jak were able to answer her as they all watched, wide-eyed.
The remnants of the curse lifted from her flesh in small plumes of smoke before her skin began to knit together beneath his hand.
Relief hit Draevyn so hard it was dizzying, but he didn’t move, not until every last tendril of darkness vanished. Only then did he allow himself to let out a breath. Blood still dripped from his palm, his hand trembling where it rested over her spine.
Jenli wasted no time, sweeping over with a clean sheet and draping it gently across Esmyra’s shoulders, covering her bare body. Together, she and Draevyn eased her to sit upright as Jak rushed back over to the three of them.
“Is it really over?” Esmyra swallowed. “Are they gone?”
Jenli nodded, eyes scanning the back of the sheet now stained with both of their blood. “The curse retreated and your skin is mending.”
“Tits, it worked,” she said with a disbelieving laugh.
Esmyra lifted her hand to her face, and talons leisurely slid out from the tips of her fingers. That feisty, wicked grin of hers tilted her lips, and it was one of the most glorious sights Draevyn had ever seen.
He sent up a silent prayer to Irah, thanking the god for the first time in his life.
But then a sudden exhaustion slammed into him, and once again the room blurred and swayed. Draevyn’s legs gave out, and he dropped back down to his knees before her. The world tilted, his chest still heaving with the aftermath of everything he’d endured.
“Drae!” Esmyra’s voice echoed from above him, but she sounded so distant.
His forehead found her lap without thought, the warmth of her seeping into him. Her fingers slid into his hair, weaving through the sweat-slick strands as if he would disappear if she let him go. He tilted his head just enough to lock eyes with her.
Esmyra looked just as exhausted as he felt, but she gazed at him with such raw love he was unable to look away. Neither of them spoke a word, but he knew none were needed.
The edges of his vision darkened, the pounding in his skull drowning out everything else. He wanted to keep looking at her, to cling to the proof that she was finally safe.
But the pull was too strong.
Draevyn’s eyes fluttered a few times before he sagged forward, consciousness slipping away as the world went silent and dark.