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His pointy ears peek through his curls, letting me know he’s also a faerie.
“That was quite a fall,” he murmurs. “Hold on.” He looks me over. “Can you feel this?”
“Feel what?” I rasp.
He shares a look with Ken. “How about this?”
“No,” I whisper. “I feel nothing.
“It’ll be okay,” Ken repeats. “Tell her. Tell her she’ll be fine. She’s talking. That’s a good sign, right?”
My eyes squeeze shut as I try to hold back the tears threatening to fall. I realize what nobody wants to say: I’m paralyzed.
I’m alive, but I will never again be okay.
As I’m processing what this means, my body begins to tingle. A warm, prickling sensation takes over as the feeling spreads through my veins. As it builds, the pain comes back. But not for long. The agony turns to discomfort, which slowly diminishes.
Until there’s nothing left.
I can breathe fully, no longer hurting.
Carefully, I push myself up to a sitting position.
“Little human!” Ken says.
“Oh my gods. I can feel. I’m—”
The golden-faerie thuds to the ground beside me, face contorting with pain. He gasps for air, like he’s choking. His body writhes and shudders, until he goes completely still, blank eyes staring at the sky.
“What’s happening?” I ask Ken, alarmed.
Ken ignores me, wrapping me into a sweaty bear hug. “You’re okay! You’re okay, little human. I knew you’d be—”
I push away from him, dropping to my knees in the grass next to the male.
“We need to do something to help him, Ken!”
Ken nudges him with the toe of his boot. “He’s fine.”
“Fine?” I cry. “He doesn’t look fine.”
“He took your wounds.”
“What do you mean he took them?”
“Eoin is an empath. He can heal, but only by absorbing the pain of others.”
Eoin.
Panic courses through me as Eoin grits his teeth, his movement returning. I reach for him, but then I drop my hand, unsure of what to do.
Meanwhile, Ken seems entirely unconcerned.
“It’ll pass.” He must sense my uncertainty, because he pats me on the shoulder. “Eoin knows the price of his magic, little human. Give him a minute, and he’ll be fine.”
Sure enough, a moment later, Eoin gasps for breath, clutching his chest. He sits up and offers me a timid smile, as if he wasn’t just dying in the grass.
As if I wasn’t the reason he was dying in the grass.
