Page 180 of May: Bloom & Bane

Ashán.

“Sage—wait,” I gasp as his hips drive forward again.

He lets out a frustrated groan against my neck, his hands tightening on my thighs as he fights the urge to slide into me. His eyes are completely glazed over. “Eden… please… no more waiting.”

“Sage, look!”

I cup his jaw, using every ounce of my strength to lift his heavy, sweat-sheened face away from my chest. “The mirror! Look in the mirror. He’s there!”

He freezes, his chest heaving against mine, eyes snapping toward the glass.

“There’s nothing there, ílyara,” he rasps, pressing his forehead against mine. “He’s still gone.”

“What? No, he’s not.” I push against his chest, and Sage’s hands flex against my thighs, eyes flashing with a possessive glint as he struggles to let me go. After a moment, his grip loosens, and I slide out from under him.

“He was right here. I know what I saw.”

I blink past tears, staring blankly at my own reflection. I know what I saw… it was real. Silence stretches between us, broken only by the soft, wet tap of níva hitting the floorboards. The heat of Sage’s body bleeds into my back as his hands settle on my hips.

“Eden, look at me.”

I can’t tear my eyes away from the glass, begging the shadow to reappear.

“I felt him, Sage,” I whisper. “He was reaching for me. He was right there.”

His thumbs stroke over my hipbone.

“I believe you,” he murmurs, pressing tiny kisses along the curve of my neck. His wings wrap around my body. “I want him back too, ílyen. We will find him. I swear to you, we will bring him home.”

CHAPTER 52

vaelína

—ASHÁN

I’ve started craving these nightly sessions with her.

Sage is burning alive tonight. His arms are wrapped protectively around Eden, but his breathing is shallow and strained. He denied his own needs earlier to spare her, and now the backed-up magic is slowly suffocating him.

And again… it was my fault.

The scent of her níva leaking into the air had been a fishhook snagged straight into my soul. I had slammed against the cage I built inside our shared consciousness, starving to shift and run my fangs over her nectar-covered breasts. I held strong, but she found me anyway—she felt me.

Ash’kaela, how I long to touch you.

I unspool a sliver of my shadow and wind it around Eden’s midsection. A thread so thin it could be mistaken for a simple draft if she wakes up.

“Hello, my little shadow,” I breathe into the dark.

A tiny spark pushes back, reaching and wrapping around my essence. She holds my darkness, pulsing a warm hum back up the tether until my throat tightens.

She knows me.

“You are so strong, Vaelína,” I whisper. “Are you ready for tonight’s story?”

I let my shadow stroke gently over Eden’s stomach while I feed our tiny princess.

“Once, there was a creature made entirely of darkness,” I murmur softly, letting the deep cadence of my voice soothe her. “He lived in a deep, cold hollow, and he believed if he ever touched The Sun, he would only destroy it. He was sure he was a monster. But one day, a beautiful, stubborn copper flower started growing right in the center of his void. And it wasn’t afraid of his shadows—it bloomed because of them.”