Page 183 of May: Bloom & Bane

I reach out to grab her shoulder, to press my hand against her belly, but my fingers slide straight through her skin like smoke.

Neither of them flinches.

Eden lets out a final, ear-splitting cry and throws her head back against Sage’s chest. A tiny wail pierces the air—a baby. Our nestling.

Sage reaches down, his face slick with tears as he cradles her small body, bringing her straight to Eden’s chest.

“She’s beautiful, Saevúra,” he whispers, his voice cracking with a father’s pride. “Look at her.”

I drop to my knees beside the nest, trying to force my shadows to solidify, to make them see me.

“Please gods, let them see me,” I plead. “I’m right here, ash’kaela.”

Eden smiles through her tears, staring down at the baby. As I lean closer, Vaelína’s eyes pop open.

They aren’t purple and gold like Sage’s, or the striking green of Eden’s. They are two tiny pits of endless, swirling black void.

Her mouth opens, but instead of a cry, a deep, raspy distortion of my own voice bleeds out of her tiny lips.

“You left us in the dark.”

CHAPTER 54

i’m your rain

—EDEN

The sun warms my skin. I try to enjoy the weather, but my mind keeps wandering back to Ashán. Ten full days without him. My fingers mindlessly trace the hem of my dress. Sage hasn’t been the same since I had to use the dream dust a couple days ago. We’ve spent most of our time outside, but his fever only worsens.

“Eden, are you okay?” Damien calls from across the yard, where he’s leaning against the thick trunk of an old oak. He’s become a comforting presence over the last few weeks.

“I’m alright,” I murmur, “just a little tired.”

Beside me, Sage lets out a soft, strained breath. He’s pretending to watch the squirrels chase each other through the branches, but his weight has been slowly drifting into my side for the last ten minutes. His shoulder feels like it’s on fire. He hasn’t spoken more than a handful of words to me all morning.

“Vaelí, is your head hurting again?” I murmur. “I can go with Damien to grab some more of the healing herbs?”

He lets out another shallow breath, his shoulders tensing as he slowly pulls his weight back off of me. His beautiful green skin looks dull, almost gray around his jawline, and his eyes are glazed over.

“Just… tired, mí’sírael,” he whispers. He tries to offer me one of his reassuring smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “The sun is good for me. Don’t worry.”

“Sage, you’re burning up.” I lift my hand and press the back of my knuckles against his cheek.

The vibrant, leafy green vines woven across his shoulders look brittle. The edges are flaking away into dry, brown dust.

The Big Bird is crunchy, Droot chirps, pulsing a worried shade of gray.

“It’s okay, Droot. We’re taking The Big Bird inside and getting him into bed right now.”

He swallows hard, his knuckles turning white where his hands are clamped over his knees. “It’s nothing. I’m fine, Eden.”

The air around us begins to shift. The spring heat vanishes, replaced with a cool breeze carrying the scent of ancient oak and warm amber. The scent is as unmistakable as his spinning halo. The golden shimmer of his arrival settles over the grass as Therael steps out from the shade of the trees. His expression is brighter than normal.

“I wanted to congratulate you on the—” He pauses. His gaze catches where Sage is slumped entirely against my shoulder, and the warmth drains from his face. “Eden, how long has he looked like this?”

My stomach drops, and my hand tightens on Sage’s burning forearm.

“He’s been tired all morning, but… his vines just started flaking a few minutes ago. He feels like he’s on fire.”