Chapter Fifty-Eight
The Protector
The shadows fade from her skin as I pull them into my own body. I can feel their power—dark and ancient. Calling for me to release them. Calling for me to explode.
This is what she’s been feeling. This is why she’s volatile.
Her body falls limp in my arms, and I bend down to scoop up her legs, holding her to my chest. Blood is pouring from a wound on Nithe’s head, his eyes red and tired.
“Get yourself cleaned up.” I say as I push past him, headed for her room.
Nobody speaks. Not even Emery who seemed to disappear once she realized she wasn’t going to be eviscerated by our deranged queen.
I set her body down on her bed, stepping over a body.
Her breathing is slow, even. Her skin isn’t as pale, her cheeks red and flushed. Even her freckles have deepened.
She looks healthier. Her belly is swollen, stretching the cotton of the shirt she’s wearing. I reach forward, my hand resting on the small bump. I push inward until I feel the thumping of his heart. It’s even, strong. I push further until I dig into his little mind, until I feel what he feels.
Warmth.
He feels so warm. I can feel his attachment to Elaenor, the love he already holds for his mother. I can even feel a little bit of light in his soul, but all of that is overshadowed by darkness.
I can see the color of his blood, black as night. I can see his veins pulsing beneath his unformed skin, black. I can see his eyes from where they sit half-made in his skull.
Black .
I can also feel what he isn’t.
He isn’t human.