18. Torin
EIGHTEEN
TORIN
“Torin. Torin!”
Sakura’s face swims into view. She’s crying—tears streaming down her cheeks, mingling with raindrops that weren’t there a moment ago. The weather is responding to her distress, localized rain falling only on us, only in this moment of desperate fear.
“You idiot.” Her hands find my face, gentle despite the fury in her voice. “You complete, absolute, poetry-writing idiot.”
“Had to.” My voice comes out as a rasp. “Couldn’t let her... hurt you.”
“So you absorbed a magical weapon?”
“Seemed like... good idea... at the time.”
“You could have died.”
“Didn’t.” I try to smile. It feels wrong on my face—muscles not quite responding, nerves still recovering from the overload. “Bears are sturdy.”
“You are not sturdy. You are bleeding from your ears, Torin. There is blood coming out of your ears.”
Oh. That’s probably not good.
“Just need... minute.” I try to sit up. The world tilts alarmingly. “Where’s Valesh?”
“Unconscious. The wind knocked her into a tree.” Sakura’s hands press against my shoulders, keeping me down. “Don’t move. Don’t you dare move. I’m going to save your life, and then I’m going to kill you for making me save your life.”
“That seems... counterproductive.”
“Shut up.” But her voice cracks on the words, and fresh tears spill down her cheeks. “Just shut up and let me help you.”
Her magic touches me—not the violent elements she wields in combat, but the gentle healing energy I’ve watched her use on clients. The power that makes plants grow, crystals sing, and broken things slowly mend. It flows into me like warm water, easing the cold, pushing back the darkness.
Underneath it all, building like pressure before a thunderclap, I feel the mate pull finally snap into place. But not from my bear. From Sakura.
She leans down and bites my shoulder. Not hard enough to seriously wound—just enough to break skin. Just enough to leave a mark.
I gasp and my hands come up to grip her arms.
“Sakura.” Her name on my lips is reverent. I pull her down and kiss her. When we finally break apart, we’re both crying. The rain has stopped—the weather finally, impossibly calm.
“You claimed me.” My voice is rough. “You bit me.”
“The biting was impulsive.”
“I’m not complaining.” My hand touches my shoulder, where the mark of her teeth is already healing into a scar that looks like storm clouds. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that since the first day.”
“You could have mentioned that.”
“You weren’t ready.” I cup her face with hands that shouldn’t be steady but somehow are. “I would have waited forever, Sakura. However long you needed.”
“I know.” She turns her head to kiss my palm. “That’s why I love you.”
“I love you,” I say because it bears repeating. “I love you, and I’m sorry it took almost losing you for me to say it.”
“I love you too.” Her smile is everything I’ve ever wanted.
The Network arrives in a chaos of voices and movement.
Caius’s wolves spread out, securing the perimeter, checking the unconscious Preservers.
Anouk kneels beside Valesh, binding her with magical restraints that glow faintly in the disturbed air.
Rhodes is documenting everything—the shattered siphon, the battle damage, the blood magic circle that never completed.
And Aslan crouches beside me, his tiger’s intensity focused on assessment.
“He absorbed the siphon’s power.” Sakura’s voice is steady despite the tears still tracking down her face. “All of it. To stop the discharge.”
“That should have killed him.” Aslan’s expression is grim. “That should have killed anyone.”
“Bear’s resistance.” I manage. “Gambled... it would be enough.”
“You gambled your life.”
“Won.” I try to smile again. It works better this time. “Didn’t I?”
Aslan stares at me for a long moment. Then, surprisingly, he laughs.
“You’re insane.” He shakes his head. “Completely insane. Leire is going to lose her mind when she hears about this. She’s been worried sick since we lost contact.”
“Tell her... I’m fine.”
“You are visibly not fine. You look like death warmed over and then frozen again.” But Aslan’s hand clasps my shoulder—gentle, careful of my injuries. “You saved the town, Torin. The Warding Line is damaged but holding. Whatever you did, it worked.”
Relief floods through me, warm despite the lingering cold in my bones. It worked. The Line held. Sakura is safe.
Worth it. Always worth it.
“We need to get him to the healers.” Anouk appears at the edge of my vision, her expression clinical but concerned. “The magical corruption needs to be purged before it spreads. Sakura’s stabilization is working, but he needs proper treatment.”
“I’ll carry him.” Aslan shifts, and suddenly a massive tiger crouches beside me—larger than any natural cat, muscles rippling beneath striped fur. He lowers himself, offering his back.
“Can you hold on?” Sakura asks.
“Think so.” I don’t mention that my grip is barely functional. That my vision is starting to gray at the edges again. That every breath feels like lifting weights.
She helps me onto Aslan’s back. The tiger rises smoothly, taking my weight without apparent effort. Sakura walks beside us, her hand never leaving my arm.
“Stay awake.” Her voice is fierce. “Keep talking to me.”
“About what?”
“Anything. Your poetry. Your cabin. What you’re going to cook me for dinner when you’re healed.” A pause. “Tell me about the poem you were writing. The one about lightning in honey.”
I blink at her. “You read that one?”
“I read all of them. While you were recovering from the last stupid, heroic stunt you pulled.” Her grip tightens. “I’ve been waiting to ask about that line. What does it mean?”
The journey through the Overgrowth stretches before us—wild magic still restless, paths still shifting, but the forest seems calmer. Less hostile. Maybe it knows the threat is neutralized. Maybe it’s grateful.
Or maybe I’m hallucinating from blood loss.
“Lightning in honey.” I focus on the words, using them to anchor myself in consciousness. “It’s... you. The way you move. Dangerous and sweet at the same time.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s accurate.” I lean into Aslan’s warmth, fighting the pull of darkness. “You’re the most dangerous thing I’ve ever encountered. And the sweetest. And I want to spend... the rest of my life... figuring out how both can be true.”
Sakura makes a sound that might be a laugh or a sob. “That’s also ridiculous.”
“Probably.” My eyes want to close. I force them open. “Still true.”
“Stay awake.”
“Trying.”
“Try harder.” Her hand slides into my hair—a gesture that should be too intimate for witnesses, but I don’t think either of us cares anymore. “You’re not allowed to pass out until we reach the healers.”
“Bossy.”
“Someone has to be.” But her voice softens. “Please, Torin. Stay with me.”
The Overgrowth parts before us, and in the distance, I see the lights of Mistvale. Home. Safety. The place I’ve protected for years, the community I’ve served, the town that’s become infinitely more precious since a weather witch arrived and turned my world upside down.
“I’m staying.” The words come out slurred but certain. “Not going anywhere. Too much... to stay for.”
“Good.” Sakura’s lips brush my forehead—brief and fierce and final. “Because I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”
The lights grow closer. My vision grows dimmer.
But I hold on.
For her.
For us.
For the everything I promised and intend to deliver, no matter what it costs.