21. Lucky & Nick #2
Both of them were glowing brighter than the room now, and they were putting off a heat so intense I could feel it from where I was sitting.
I closed my eyes for a moment to try to lock in on my connection with Lucky, but I couldn’t.
It was muddled. It usually took several hours at least before the full bond formed, and we’d had maybe an hour.
It was maddening that I couldn’t feel her. I needed to know if she was okay.
She wasn’t crying, or crying out in pain, so I hoped it wasn’t painful, but looking at the way the cells in her body looked red hot to my magical eyes, I couldn’t imagine it was anything but excruciating.
It would be just like her to keep all that locked inside so she didn’t add to my terror and pain.
I drew a shuddering breath in, trying not to cry. I didn’t want to see this. It was awful watching your wife have to endure a pain so intense I couldn’t even imagine it. I wanted to blink myself to the furthest corner of the galaxy and stay there until it was all over.
But I couldn’t.
Because I loved her. So much. And you didn’t let the people you loved go through terrible things alone, even if it killed you to do it.
It’s okay to cry, Nick, Declan said telepathically.
I glanced over to find my grumpy, emotionally stunted brother with tears running down his face. He took my hand, and I almost fell apart, but somehow managed to hold it together.
Forget tossing them into a volcano; I seriously loved my brothers.
When I turned back to Lucky, her glow was dimming, and my heart dropped when I saw why.
Her cells had started rejecting the elemental essence.
They weren’t fully human anymore, but neither were they elemental.
Her chaos magic was swirling through her body so powerfully that it looked like a storm was swirling within her.
I couldn’t tell if it was blocking the elemental essence, or if it was just too much for her human body to handle, but she was fading.
Please, God, don’t take her from me.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw a tantrum so terrible that it would make even the universe shudder.
Instead, I sat there with my brother’s hand gripping mine tightly, tears streaming down my face, pleading with God to let her live.
I couldn’t even formulate thoughts anymore. It was just one formless, endless plea.
Her glow dimmed, and then dimmed further.
The king, sensing she was fading, rallied, and threw everything he had left into the transfer.
And he was long past gentle. He gathered whatever remained into one massive mass of power, and then shoved it forcefully into my wife.
She flared brighter than a supernova for a moment, making me have to shield my eyes.
But when I turned back, her light was completely gone, and the king had collapsed back against the chair, breathing heavily, every muscle shaking as though he’d just run a marathon.
“It’s up to her now,” he whispered, spent. “You can touch her again.”
She looked so pale and lifeless I was afraid to; I was afraid she was already gone.
“I’ll help the king to his bed,” Declan said softly, rising to help the king out of his chair, then throwing one of the king’s arms over his shoulder so he could take more of his weight.
Asharien slumped against him, his head lolling, his neck too exhausted to support it.
Declan did his best to help him before he turned back to me. “Can you let me know?”
I knew immediately what he was asking. He wanted to know either way... if she lived or died.
I nodded, moving like a zombie towards my wife.
I heard the door shut as I climbed into bed beside her and took her cold body into my arms. She only had a sheet on, so I pulled the covers up over her, and then, because her chaos magic was completely gone, I blinked a heated blanket on top of that one.
Her pulse was thready, but her heart was still beating. Before, her body had looked like a storm was raging inside. Now, it was completely calm.
Almost lifeless.
I was so terrified. I cuddled her to me and buried my face in the crook of her neck. My tears were getting her wet, and I wanted her to get up and sass me, and tell me to stop drenching her. That she’d already had a shower today.
My short, hiccuping laugh turned into sobs.
Please, God, don’t take her from me.
Lucky
I wasn’t really aware for a long time, just floating on an endless sea.
It had been stormy before, but now I floated there, closing my eyes with my face tipped toward the sun as the waves gently rocked me.
I had no concept of time. No sense that I needed to hurry or do anything or be anywhere. I was just there.
Floating.
Peaceful.
The first awareness I really felt was the sense of the waves gently pushing me toward the shore in the distance.
It was like the waves were hands passing under my body, carrying me forward until I felt sand underneath me, and then the feeling of the waves surrounding me was gone, and I blinked my eyes open.
The reason I couldn’t move was because Nick was wrapped around me like an anaconda.
He was crying.
I tried to speak, failed, tried again, and failed again. I could feel him, and I could feel my hand threaded through his, so I tried to squeeze his hand to let him know I was awake.
He jolted and his eyes flew open. When he saw my face, and that my eyes were open and focused on him, he started sobbing, getting me wet.
I really wanted to sass him and tell him I’d already had a shower, but A, now was clearly not the time, and B, I still couldn’t speak.
Instead I kept squeezing his hand, letting him know I was okay, and that I’d made it.
Miraculously, I’d made it.
I didn’t know how, but I had.
I searched within, trying to figure out what was different, but was interrupted by Nick attack kissing me everywhere on my face he could reach.
“I’m afraid to move you,” he said gruffly. “Are you in pain?”
I shook my head. No. No pain at all. I felt like I was floating on the ocean, but I thought maybe that had only been a dream.
Or had it?
I was no longer sure. It had felt real. And more than the way that dreams sometimes felt very realistic when you woke up.
That was all the permission my husband apparently needed to pull me on top of him, bury his face in my neck, and squeeze the life out of me.
We stayed like that for a long time. Again, I wasn’t aware of time passing, just the feeling of peace and endless waves within me. There was a little bit of wind? Of bottled-up power? I didn’t really understand it, but the endlessly peaceful feeling kept me sane until I could speak again.
When I could? The first thing I said was the most important. “I love you,” I whispered.
Nick’s laugh was watery. “You are in so much trouble right now.”
Valid.
“We did it.” My voice was raw and sore. Like I had been screaming all night long without pause. “My chaos magic is gone.”
Because I couldn’t move very much yet, Nick adjusted my body again, moving my head to his chest but positioning me so I could still see him.
“Yeah, I can see it. I’m not sure what elemental magic you have, though. Your cells look like they’re still in a state of flux.”
I remembered the feeling of the ocean. Of the dream that hadn’t felt like a dream.
“Water,” I whispered. “I think water... but also something else? I’m not sure. It feels... powerful, but it’s not as strong as the water.”
His eyes widened. “Are you saying you think you have two elements?” He was whispering now too, which told me this was probably a big deal.
“I think so? It feels like... caged lightning. Like raw power.”
“Storm,” he said quietly.
I thought about that for a moment, and then nodded. Yeah, that felt right. “Yeah, I think so.”
“There are no elementals with dual elements.”
I shrugged. “Maybe my chaos magic did it as one final blow before it got erased, I don’t know.”
He pulled me on top of him again and wrapped his arms around me, kissing my neck. “I don’t care,” he whispered. “I don’t care. You’re here, you’re alive. That’s all I care about. I love you. Thank you for fighting for us.”
After a long while, I spoke again. “Almost dying is exhausting. Can we nap now?” I asked hopefully.
I could feel his silent laughter as his body shook beneath mine. Then he kissed my neck one more time before he adjusted my body so I was lying next to him again and curled himself around me protectively “Yeah, sunshine. Let’s nap.”