Page 171 of Echoes of the Banshee

Thea struggles to keep her composure as she watches him weaken further.

“He had them on too long,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, like admitting the truth makes it even worse. She looks at me, her eyes pleading. “Will you be able to heal him?”

I meet her gaze, startled by the naked terror I find there. Then it hits me. The desperation. She knows he’s dying. I press my hands to Benson’s chest, sending everything I can into him, trying to reignite his spark. But it’s too fragile. I feel the magic in my hands waver.

“I’m not strong enough,” I admit, the words heavy with failure.

“Should we pull over and I try?” Mavrik asks from the driver’s seat. “I’m not very good at healing.”

“You can take my energy,” Thea says, holding out her hand.

The air leaves my lungs.

“Thea…” I whisper. Witches don’t offer their energy lightly. It’s more than sacred. It’s soul-deep, the ultimate act of trust.

Her expression doesn’t falter.

“You need more to help him, don’t you?”

I hesitate, staring at her, my heart in my throat. “Do you even know what you’re offering?”

“Yes,” she says firmly. “I’m a little low, but take what you need. I trust you.”

“I’ll stop him from going too far,” Mavrik promises from the front seat.

My hand trembles as I take hers, letting the connection form. She winces when I squeeze and I realize belatedly that her arm must be injured if they gave her a brace. But then her energy floods into me, and I’m overwhelmed. Wildfire and starlight. Mine. It’s like my soul recognizes her before my mind can catch up.

The truth crashes into me; it’s her.

My mate.

The weight of it sinks in, a pull in my chest, deep and undeniable. This is why I’ve been so drawn to her. A magnetic force that binds me to her in a way I can’t escape.

I shake the thought away, forcing my focus back on Benson. He needs me now, not my spiraling heart. I can’t ignore the power as it surges through me like nothing I’ve ever felt. I’m a strong witch, or I thought I was until she offers me more power than I’ve ever had access to. She said she was weakened. How does she deal with this much magic all the time? No wonder it slips out.

I push the energy into Benson’s fading spark, coaxing his magic to respond. Slowly, I feel it stir. The sputter of life that had nearly guttered out is reignited, his magical essence pulsing back to life. His skin begins to regain color, and his breathing deepens.

His eyes slowly open, unfocused but warm.

“Not dead,” he mutters weakly.

“‘Fraid not, B.” Thea smiles softly at him, brushing his hair from his face.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a bus.” He cracks a tired grin, his lips dry and pale.

I let out a soft huff of laughter, more habit than humor. “Yeah, you look like it.”

The car jolts as Dylan parks outside the Thornfell health office, beside the Otherfell entrance. Ollin is already running toward us. I really wanted to hate him. The whole protective act, the familiarity with Thea. But he’s good. Efficient. Focused. I’m not ready to call him a friend, but I’m starting to see why she does.

“You found them,” he says, eyes scanning the group before landing on Thea. A loud growl escaping his throat as the color drains from his face.

“I’m fine, help B,” she orders him and he does as she tells him.

“They had cuffs on him,” I tell him quickly, already pulling Benson out of the car. “We need to get him to the health office. Now.”

Ollin and Dylan each grab an arm and practically carry him. I want to argue, but the two shifters are stronger than me.