Chapter 23 #2
But it came with a cost, and the power it needed to achieve all this was mine.
That power I’d felt drained already after the fight we’d just had.
And now I could feel the Court draining me further, could feel my already depleted reserves being pulled into this reconstruction.
It was like being a conduit, a channel through which the court’s own power could flow back into itself.
But I didn’t try to stop it. Couldn’t stop it.
This was important. This was necessary. This was what I’d come here to do.
It was what Nymeria had been waiting for.
Someone to bridge the gap, to restart the flow of magic that had been cut off for so long.
Except I didn’t know how much longer I could keep this up.
I felt the connection reach through my fledgling bond with Damon, felt the court’s magic try to touch him too. For a moment, something shifted, and I sensed the beginning of court magic trying to claim him. The Fifth Court, recognizing a king.
But then it was forced back. Something inside Damon pushed against the connection, rejected it. The nightmare, I realized. The creature inside him was blocking the court from fully connecting, from completing whatever bond was trying to form.
The magic withdrew from him, but the court continued to rebuild. It pulled more heavily on me now, and I felt my knees start to buckle. My vision was going gray at the edges. My heart was pounding too fast.
But I pushed on. Opened myself up further. Let the magic flow through me unimpeded, because this was important. This place needed to exist, because my mother was in here somewhere and I would not let her sanctuary crumble.
A part deep inside of me cracked open and I knew without a doubt that whatever power the Court was accessing was the last that I had.
It was the reserve that kept me alive, kept me whole and made me who I was.
This wasn’t an infinite pool. These were the last of what I had and a flutter of panic set about in me at the thought that this could be it. When this was gone, I would be too.
But then the shaking stopped.
I blinked, my vision clearing slowly, and found myself standing in a lit hallway.
Intact walls rose around us, carved with intricate patterns that seemed to move in the corner of my eye.
Torches burned in sconces, casting warm light across stone that looked like it had stood for millennia, undamaged and eternal.
Fizzle was perched on a decorative pillar, looking distinctly relieved.
“I’m getting tired,” I managed to say, though my voice came out as barely more than a whisper, “of being ambushed by doorways in this realm.”
Fizzle actually smiled. It was a strange expression on his owl-griffin face, but unmistakable.
“Are you ready to meet your mother?” he asked.
I opened my mouth to say yes. To say I’d been ready since I first learned she existed. This was why I’d come, what I’d fought for, what we’d all nearly died for.
But what came out was: “No.”
Fizzle’s eyes widened in confusion.
“I can’t,” I confessed. The words tumbled out of me in a rush, carried on the last dregs of my strength. “I’m too drained. I’m seconds away from passing out. If I try to have that conversation now, I’ll collapse before she finishes a sentence.”
Fizzle looked at me, really looked, and I saw the realization dawn in his eyes. Then his gaze moved to Damon, and something else flickered across his features. Concern. Confusion. Like something wasn’t going the way it was supposed to.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he murmured, almost to himself. Then, louder: “I will take you all to where you can rest. There are chambers prepared for guests of the court. You can recover, and then...”
He trailed off, but I heard the unspoken words. And then we would face whatever came next.
I made it two steps before my knees gave out from under me, and then I found myself in Damon’s arms. He dipped his head, his forehead brushing against mine and then we followed Fizzle through the rebuilt hallways.
The others were close behind. I could feel their worry through the bonds, their exhaustion matching my own. We were all running on fumes now. All desperate for rest.
Fizzle stopped in front of a door, ancient wood carved with symbols that seemed to glow faintly in the torchlight. “Here,” he said. “You can…”
“Wait.”
Damon’s voice cut through the exhaustion-fog in my brain. I looked up at him and saw the same withdrawn expression starting to darken his face. There was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there moments ago, and his eyes were darker than they should have been.
“Take me somewhere I can be contained,” he said quietly. “Somewhere secure. Somewhere with locks on the outside.”
Fizzle’s feathers ruffled with alarm. “What? Why would…”
“I’m tired.” Damon’s voice was flat, but I could hear the strain underneath.
The fear he was trying to hide. “I can feel the nightmare scratching at the edges of my mind. It’s been quiet, but it’s still there, and I can feel myself weakening.
” He swallowed hard, his jaw tight. “When I sleep... I don’t know what will happen when I sleep.
I don’t know if I’ll wake up as myself or as something else. ”
Fizzle stared at him, and I saw the calculations happening behind his ancient eyes. The concern. The frustration. The sense that something was going wrong, that plans were unraveling in ways he hadn’t anticipated.
“This isn’t what’s supposed to happen,” he said slowly, his voice heavy with implication.
Damon just shook his head. “Not now. Please. We’re all tired. We need to rest. I don’t have time to linger for whatever conversation you want to have about prophecies and plans and what’s supposed to happen. I just need somewhere I won’t be a danger to the people I love.”
He gently placed me on the ground and then took a step back.
This was just wrong. The idea of Damon locked away, alone, while the rest of us rested in comfort.
.. it was wrong. He’d just fought beside me, protected me, kissed me.
He was my mate, the bond might have been new and not quite solid but it was there, and the thought of him spending the night in a cell made something in my chest ache.
“I’ll go with you,” I said, starting toward him.
But my legs chose that moment to finally give out.
I would have hit the floor if Tank hadn’t caught me. His massive arms wrapped around me, lifting me against his chest like I weighed nothing. Like he wasn’t injured and exhausted and running on fumes himself. Like holding me was the most natural thing in the world.
“We’ll stay with him,” Maddox said, and I saw Ryder and Dean nodding in agreement.
Their faces were determined, fierce. The brothers were rallying around one of their own, just as they always had.
“We’ll keep watch. Make sure he’s not alone.
Make sure if the nightmare tries anything, we’re there to stop it. ”
I could see the relief that flooded Damon’s face at their words.
The gratitude. The way his shoulders eased slightly as some of the tension drained out of him.
He wouldn’t be alone. He wouldn’t have to face the nightmare’s scratching alone.
His brothers would be there, watching over him, keeping him safe.
Yet still, I wanted to protest. Wanted to insist that I be there too. But my eyes were already closing, my body finally giving up its fight against unconsciousness. The magic I’d poured into rebuilding the court had taken the last of my reserves, and there was simply nothing left.
I felt Tank turn and heard the click of a door closing behind us.
“What are you doing?” I managed to ask Tank, though the words came out slurred and barely coherent.
“You want to go with them,” he said gently, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through his chest. “But you don’t have it in you right now. So I’m making it easier. Taking the choice away so you can rest without guilt. So you can sleep knowing that everyone is being taken care of.”
I wanted to argue. But he was right. I could feel it in every cell of my body. The exhaustion was absolute, overwhelming, impossible to fight.
“Trust us,” Tank continued, as he carried me further away from the others. “Trust that we’ll all do what needs to be done. You’ve carried us this far. Let us carry you for a while.”
I laid my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He was warm. Safe. Real. Everything I needed him to be.
“Okay,” I whispered.
And for the first time since this whole nightmare began, I let go.
I fell asleep in Tank’s arms, feeling impossibly, miraculously safe. Tomorrow, there would be challenges. Tomorrow, I would meet my mother, and then the real battle would begin.
But tonight, I could rest.
Tonight, I was home.