Will – Trouble #2
The anger, the ice, the marital distance…
none of it mattered in this moment. She turned, her eyes widened with absolute terror.
She threw both hands outward, unleashing a concussive shockwave of pure, blinding heat that incinerated the remaining undead in a fifty-foot radius.
The snow around them instantly vaporized, leaving the ground scorched and bare as the golden glow of her healing followed.
Will kicked the last headless corpse away and dropped to his knees beside the General.
It was bad. Too bad. Dark, sticky blood spilled over Aldrik’s armor, pooling rapidly in the dirt.
The General’s face was chalk-white, his breathing shallow and wet.
Will pressed his hands over the massive wound, his gloves instantly soaking through with heat and blood. He knew mortal damage when he saw it.
“Hold on, Aldrik,” Will gasped, his voice shaking. “Just hold on.”
Malin was on her knees on the other side of her father. Her hands trembled, slick with blood and ash. She pressed her hands directly onto the catastrophic wound. The clang of weapons surrounded them as the others cleared out the remaining foes, while he focused on Malin and Aldrik.
“I’ve got you.” Malin’s voice broke as she fought to get the words out. “I’m right here.”
The clearing filled with a soft, piercingly bright, golden light that poured from Malin’s palms. In breathless awe, the healing magic surged from her body into her father’s, fighting desperately against the dark, creeping edge of death.
She looked up at him, meeting his eyes over the catastrophic wound while the clash of Jacien and the twins’ battle continued to ring out around them.
Her blue eyes were blown wide, eclipsed by a frantic fear.
The desperate panic etched across her face made the grim reality completely undeniable.
She might not possess enough power left to stitch this much ruin back together.
He nodded in silent approval.
“Take what you need. Save your father,” he said.
As soon as the words left his mouth, her siphon magic latched onto his core like a physical hook, pulling his energy, his stamina, and his heat straight through the frayed tether of their soul-bond.
But still, the General bled. The dark lifeblood spilled from Aldrik’s side, barely slowing. The rusted iron hadn’t just torn flesh; it had torn the life out of him. Malin’s face paled, the golden light stuttering as she hit the limits of his passive energy.
The necessary path lay clear before him. For weeks, he had built mental walls to block her, against her siphon magic. He had fought with every breath to maintain control. But she needed more energy, or she wouldn’t save Aldrik.
Will had to offer her everything and trust she would spare him.
He shifted his weight, sliding his blood-soaked hands fully over hers. He locked his hazel eyes onto hers and shattered his walls. He stopped guarding his core, completely dropping the protective cage of his trauma, and deliberately shoved his life force across the bond.
The siphon didn’t just pull; it ripped.
It was terrifying.
It was the exact, suffocating helplessness he feared most, but he surrendered to it.
The cold inside him became absolute, a freezing numbness that crept up his limbs and stole the breath from his lungs.
The clash of steel from the perimeter faded into a muffled, distant ringing.
His vision tunneled, the snowy pass bleeding into a hazy gray.
But beneath his hands, the golden light flared into a blinding, miniature sun.
He would give it all to her. They were broken, and she had finally found her father. She needed her father more than she needed him.
The starving void of her magic locked directly onto his soul, ripping his energy away in staggering, heavy waves. His knees threatened to buckle under the sudden, chilling lethargy flooding his veins.
Instead of pulling back, he leaned into the terrifying drain, deliberately offering up his remaining strength to fuel the radiant magic pouring from his wife. Malin would pull back before stopping his heart completely. She had to.
As the darkness crept into his periphery, he embraced the terrifying reality of his choice.
He would gladly trade his last breath to save her father.
Beneath Malin's trembling hands, the ragged, torn edges of Aldrik's muscle and skin fused closed.
The wet rattle in the older man's throat smoothed out into a sharp, painful, but incredibly clear intake of air.
The bleeding finally, mercifully stopped.
The brutal, freezing vacuum of the siphon abruptly severed. A jagged, shuddering breath tore through Will's lungs. A weak, stuttering thump against his ribs proved he survived the immediate draw, but absolutely nothing remained to keep his body upright.
His knees buckled. Gravity dragged his hollowed frame violently toward the ash and blood-stained snow.
The edges of the world did not just fade. They shattered into a heavy, suffocating black. The terrifying, icy stillness settling deep into his marrow carried a grim certainty. He might never open his eyes again.
A crushing, silent goodbye anchored his fading mind. He would never get to hold Ellie again. He would never meet the tiny, fragile life currently growing inside his wife. He traded his tomorrows for their family's survival, and the absolute finality of that choice pulled him under.
As the darkness encroached around him, warm hands frantically caught his face just a fraction of a second before he hit the dirt.
He memorized her eyes staring into his as the darkness swallowed him.
In the distance, Malin’s voice screamed his name, but the desperate sound warped and drowned completely beneath the rushing tide of the dark.