Chapter 31
Isla
I wake slowly, cocooned in warmth and the musky smell of animal pelts.
For a few groggy heartbeats, I am unaware. My body is heavy, my limbs stiff, and there’s a dull ache behind my eyes that tells me I’ve been sleeping hard.
I start to stretch, and then everything comes crashing back.
I sit up with a start and check on Sebastian with my heart lodged in my throat. He is on his back. The tunic I put on earlier has ridden up and is bunched up around my hips, and the furs are pulled high over both of us. I must have fallen asleep again. I don’t remember doing it.
The healer came back. She went through a similar routine as before. She didn’t say much. I asked how he was doing, and she gave me a look before clicking her tongue. She shook her head, her expression grave.
It wasn’t encouraging.
He looks the same, only when I press my palm flat against his chest, I think he’s a touch warmer. It might be nothing. It might be my own desperate need to believe he’s improving. I spread my fingers wider, feeling for the slow, steady beat of his heart.
As long as his heart beats, there is a chance of saving him.
The fire in the pit has been fed recently. Someone came in while we slept, so it is blessedly warm.
I feel for my magic, and it’s there. I’m still tired and wrung out, but I have more than before.
I have to try again.
I knocked Snow back. I’m more powerful than I give myself credit for.
I can do this. I can save him.
I pull the fur down to his waist, exposing his bare chest. I lay both palms against his skin, one over the faded eclipse, the other above his heart.
I close my eyes and reach down into myself.
I call the shadows first. They come to me like old friends, pooling in my palms, cool and dark and familiar. I look at them, realizing in the next moment that they aren’t what he needs.
It was his light that was stolen.
I lift my hands and reach for my firefae magic.
It answers immediately. Flame erupts from my fingertips, bright and hot and wild. The orange light dances across the cave walls.
He needs warmth and life…not heat and fire.
I change what I am asking of my magic, taking a deep breath.
I push the fire back down, tamping it down.
Warmth spreads through my palms in a deep, steady heat without the flame.
I hold my hands above Sebastian’s chest; they glow in just the right way.
I don’t actually touch him, but let the heat radiate down into him.
The air shimmers between my palms and his skin.
That’s it.
Then I lower my hands and press them flat against him.
He’s cold beneath my touch. I push the warmth into him, all of it, as much as I can sustain without letting the fire break free.
I move my hands slowly across his chest, over his ribs, along his abs.
I work my way down his arms, wrapping my heated palms around his biceps, his forearms, his wrists, pushing life back into them.
I take each of his hands in mine and hold them.
Then back to his chest. Over his shoulders. Down his sides. I run my hands along every inch of exposed skin, pushing heat into cold flesh, willing the life back into him.
I keep going, losing myself in it. My world shrinks to the feel of his skin beneath my hands.
I gasp when I notice that his skin is changing. My magic falters for a second, but I redouble my efforts. Color slowly creeps back into him.
Yes!
It’s working!
I keep going, pressing harder, moving faster, running my heated palms over his torso, his arms, his neck, his face.
Sebastian moans and moves.
His head turns to one side. His fingers twitch against the furs.
“Sebastian?” My voice is hoarse. “Can you hear me?”
I force myself to keep going because it’s working.
His muscles tighten beneath my palms. His chest expands with a deeper breath than any he’s taken since we arrived here. His arms tense. The tendons in his neck stand out.
I keep pushing heat into him.
Then his eyes open.
I gasp as they lock with mine. It’s a sobbing sound. They are beautiful and vivid and so full of life.
He sucks in a ragged breath and sits up so fast that I don’t have time to move. His hands close around my wrists with an iron grip, and he hauls me forward onto his lap. I let out a startled cry as my knees land on either side of his hips, my hands trapped between us.
He’s breathing hard. His chest heaves against mine. His eyes are wide.
“Snow!” He shouts the word like a battle cry, his grip tightening on my wrists. His body is coiled, every muscle taut, and ready to fight.
“It’s me. It’s Isla.” I keep my voice calm. “Sebastian, look at me. You’re safe. She’s nowhere near us.”
His eyes dart around the cave. His fingers are still locked around my wrists, and his breathing won’t slow.
“Where are we? What…ahhh…what happened?” He frowns.
“The shifterfae helped us,” I tell him, keeping my voice steady and even. “After the battle. They brought us here, to their court. You’re safe. We’re fine.”
Something shifts in his expression. The wildness recedes, just a fraction, replaced by confusion. His grip on my wrists loosens.
“The shifterfae?” His voice is a raw scrape from disuse. “The shifterfae are my enemy. They would never help me. We are not safe, Isla.”
“They rescued both of us, or we would have died out there.” I ease one wrist free and touch his face. His skin is warm beneath my fingers. “They brought a healer to tend to you.”
“There will be an ulterior motive,” he says. “We need to go.” He tries to stand.
I press both hands against his chest and push him back.
“No. You need to rest. You almost died, Sebastian. Your body has been through something terrible. The Shifter Court is strange, and I don’t trust them entirely, but for now, we’re safe.
Once you gain back your strength, we can decide what to do.
Besides, we wouldn’t make it halfway down the hall before we were stopped. I’m not even sure I know the way out.”
He searches my face for a long moment. Whatever he finds there must satisfy something in him because he stops fighting me. He leans back against the furs, his jaw tight.
“Tell me what happened after I lost consciousness,” he says. “Tell me everything.”
I shift off his lap and sit next to him, cross-legged on the pelts.
“You went after Snow,” I begin. “You used your power against her, but she took it.”
He nods. “I remember. It was terrible. I couldn’t do anything to stop her. She drained me until there was nothing, and then she kept on taking.” His face pales.
“She took your life force and would have killed you if...”
His face hardens. A muscle works in his jaw. “If what…?” he asks.
“You collapsed,” I continue. “I knew that she was going to kill you right there in the mud.” I swallow. “So I…um…went after her.”
His eyes snap to mine. “You did what?”
“I attacked her. I used everything I had. Fire and shadow; all of it. I hit her square in the chest, and it worked.”
“Isla, you shouldn’t have—”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“You could have died.” He cups my jaw.
“That’s just it, my magic worked against her, Sebastian. I knocked her back far enough that her hold on you wavered. My magic was strong against her. She couldn’t take it or drain me.”
“That’s very interesting.” His eyes lift in thought.
“Once I started to weaken, she would have had me. She offered great rewards to anyone who could get my head.”
His eyes flare with rage. “That is why you should have left well alone.”
“The shifterfae sent their dragons in to keep her occupied and rescued me…us. They brought us here. They saved us.”
He’s quiet for a while, turning it over. I can see him working through the pieces, putting the battle back together from the fragments I’ve given him.
My mother is alive.
Not only that, but she’s also the shadowfae Ruler General.
I want to tell him, but the words stick in my throat.
If I tell him that my mother commands the shadowfae army, the very army that rode to Snow’s aid on that battlefield, he will look at me differently. His eyes will narrow in distrust. He’ll hate me.
I can’t stand the thought of it. Not right now.
I will tell him. I have to and soon, but not right now. He needs his rest. He’s only just come back to me.
Not to me.
He isn’t mine.
We’re still destined to walk on separate paths, but I only just got him back. I don’t want to lose him again quite so soon.
I look up through the small opening above the fire, seeing stars. I’ll tell him in the morning. In the light of day.
“There was something else,” I tell him instead. “As we were leaving, we came across an enormous black dragon. It had streaks of gold on its ridges and horns. The beast was bigger than any of the shifterfae dragons. It didn’t look like one of them.”
Sebastian’s brow lifts.
“There was a rider on its back,” I continue. “I thought it odd.”
“A rider?” Sebastian’s expression sharpens. “The shifterfae rarely allow themselves to be ridden. Their dragons shift from fae to beast and back.”
“I know what I saw. The strange dragon hovered above the battle for a few moments and then flew in the opposite direction. It was gone before anyone could react.”
“I have no idea, save that dragons do exist. Actual dragons, not fae shifters. The beastfae ride them. They have the ability to connect mentally with animals…to bond with them. My hope is that it was the Beastfae King, but I’m sure that’s just wishful thinking.”
I shrug. “I wish I could give you more.”
Once again, it is on the tip of my tongue to tell him about my mother, but once again, I find that I can’t. Not just yet.
“We were brought back here, and since then, it has been touch and go as to whether you would survive.” I somehow manage to keep my voice steady.
“Have you seen the Drakar?”