Quinn
It was humbling being as weak as a kitten, especially with my reserves so drained I couldn’t even heal myself.
Tobias and I slowly bathed each other, and I couldn’t help but giggle at our sluggish progress.
Marin and Yael got us both dressed—with only a little ribbing—before they brought us to a room with a bed less likely to collapse.
Between one heartbeat and the next, Tobias and I passed out in each other’s arms.
Sunlight warmed my face as I awoke, painting the inside of my eyelids a deep red. When I reached out across our bond to find my anima, my heart stopped.
Tobias wasn’t there.
My eyes flew open. A pair of familiar gold and hazel eyes met mine—but not the ones I was expecting.
Eva perched on the edge of the bed, her finger holding her place in her book. She also wore pajamas, with a cozy robe wrapped around her. Her irises swirled, those gold flecks catching the light. She looked pale and gaunt—the virus had obviously taken its toll.
But she was awake.
A smile stretched across her face. “About time you woke up.”
She spoke more slowly than usual, as if each word took extra effort. It was a common aftereffect of the virus, one that should get better with time and healing—especially now that I was here to help.
“About time I woke up?” A laugh burst out of me. I scrambled across the bed, throwing my arms around her. “You’re awake. You’re okay. You’re—”
The sob that tore from me took me entirely off guard. My shoulders shook, and Eva’s grip on me tightened. Everything that happened since the last time I saw her crashed down at once, the weight of every terrible what if threatening to swallow me whole.
I had come so close to losing her. So close to losing them both.
“I’m okay,” Eva repeated, rubbing my back in slow circles. “Because of you.”
“I wasn’t sure if—” I let out an embarrassingly loud sniffle. “You were asleep so long…”
Eva plucked a tissue from a box on the bedside without letting me go, then offered it to me.
“I’m a little slow,” she admitted softly.
“Marin said my speech is already improving. But even with whatever magic Marin used to keep my muscles from atrophying, it’s been an adjustment getting up and about.
” She released a huff of exasperation. “Bash may have carried me here. Even my magic feels raw, like I’m relearning those pathways…
so I haven’t been able to heal myself much either.
I don’t remember much between the rehearsal dinner and now, only that Bash was with me. ”
I let out a wet-sounding laugh. “I’m surprised he isn’t attached to you currently.”
“Speaking of which…” I pulled back to find Eva frowning, a lingering sheen of tears still glimmering in her eyes.
“It seems I’m not the only one with an overprotective anima to deal with.
I only got my brother to leave your side by telling him that I’d stay here until he got back, and even that took some cajoling. He’s off getting us all breakfast.”
She didn’t look half as surprised as I expected.
A blush warmed my cheeks. “I’m sorry…I would’ve told you if I could’ve. I-I didn’t realize my own feelings until all this forced us together.” I was babbling and apparently couldn’t stop. “And by then…well, I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t, obviously, but I hope you aren’t…”
Eva’s laugh cut me off. “Are you kidding? We’ve always been sisters, but now it’ll really be official.” Her grin was infectious. “I’m just thrilled I won’t have to watch my brother pine over you for eternity.”
My eyes widened. “You knew?”
“Suspected.” She shrugged, looking far too pleased with herself. “He’s been making doe eyes at you since high school. You were the one I wasn’t so sure about, and I didn’t want to pressure you. But I hoped you might feel similarly, especially when I saw you two dance.”
Some part of me had known long before that, despite how long it had taken us to get there. If fate and circumstance hadn’t kept us apart, I wondered if our anima bond would have managed to break through the amulet’s hold in the human realm.
But I couldn’t bring myself to regret the path that had taken us here—not when it had brought us together in the end.
The door swung open. Tobias walked in beside Bash, who was holding a tray laden with so much food I almost laughed. Bash’s eyes found Eva’s, a soft smile curving his lips, before his gaze zeroed in on me.
He hurried past Tobias, placing the tray on the coffee table before falling to his knees beside my bed. My greeting caught in my throat as his head bowed. One arm crossed his chest, his fist resting above his heart as his mismatched eyes lifted to mine.
“I owe you so much more than a thank you, Quinn Sagray. Until the day I die, if there’s anything you ever need that I can give you, consider it yours.” He got to his feet, taking my hand between his. “You saved my heart and my soul, and I won’t ever forget it.”
I gaped at him, unable to find anything to say in response to that speech.
“I…I appreciate it,” I stammered. “But you don’t owe me anything. I’m just glad we’re all together again.”
Bash simply smiled. “Open offer, whether it’s tomorrow or in a hundred years.”
Shadows swirled in his eyes, wrapping up his arms. I didn’t miss the tendril of shadow that looped around Eva’s fingers like a curled extension of her wedding ring.
Smoothing down my nightdress, I nodded. A groan escaped me as I sat up, then I slid off the bed onto my feet.
Tobias straightened from where he was making two plates of food. “Get back in bed, Sagray.”
“If you can walk to the kitchen, then I can at least make it across the room,” I argued, taking the plate from him and turning away. I winced as an ache flared through me at its weight. “Just because we destroyed your room doesn’t mean I want crumbs in my bed.”
“Our bed,” Tobias corrected. He begrudgingly followed, pulling the chair out for me. “But if you insist.”
He draped himself into the armchair next to me. Reaching underneath my chair, he tugged—moving my chair, and me, right next to his. I couldn’t help but smile up at him.
Eva plucked a pastry from the tray before she flopped onto the couch opposite us, Bash close behind.
She looked thoughtfully at her brother. “You seem…better.”
“Well, I can indisputably blame Quinn for that,” Tobias said dryly. He spooned some fruit onto my plate before stealing a piece of melon with his fingers.
Eva cocked her brow. “For what exactly?”
“I’m not entirely sure what this emotion I’ve been having is, but it might be happiness,” he admitted, his voice soft. “I don’t want to scare it off.”
Eva let out a startled peal of laughter. I couldn’t help but join in as an affectionate tendril of emotion crossed our bond, warm and bright and so full of love I choked up. Tobias passed me a cup of tea, his brow furrowing at the tears in my eyes.
He reached up, brushing them away.
His fingertips ran back and forth across my knuckles as we ate and talked.
It wasn’t long before Eva’s eyes grew heavy.
When she moved to the bed “to close her eyes for just a second,” I settled back in bed next to her.
Her soft snores drifted through the room as I fought a losing battle against my own closing eyelids.
Bash picked up the now empty tray, murmuring, “I’ll be right back. Take care of her, will you?”
“Always will,” Tobias said with a solemn nod.
He settled on my other side with a book in hand, one he must have retrieved from his ruined room before I woke.
I recognized it—the one about mirrors and their creation that had somehow survived the lightning strikes.
The cover was faintly singed; the pages were smoky but still readable.
Tobias thumbed through to reach the spot he bookmarked near the end as my eyes fluttered shut.
That book had saved our lives. I supposed the least he could do was finish it.