Page 138 of Heart of Thieves

Nic’s body begins to glow white like Laurel’s. His eyes blaze open, pupils devoured by that pale light.

I focus on the thrum of the blood in my veins, the whoosh of it in my ears, the tang of copper on the back of my tongue, the warmth of it under my skin.

My heart is enough for this. I am enough. I don’t need anyone else’s magic, don’t need games or lies or answers. Just my heart. The one that loves, the one that breaks, the one that heals and forgives and tries again.

And only when I’m about to unravel, only when the magic nearly overcomes me, do I feel it.

Thump.

Was that stronger than before?

I suck in a breath. Enzo’s shouting, but I hear nothing, see nothing but Nic’s pale face.

Thump.

“Please,” I whisper. “Stay.”

Thump.

The magic from above slows to a trickle, then fades, and the light in Nic’s eyes fades, too, leaving only the muted violet color of their irises. His skin goes gray once more.

Thump.

“Nic,” I plead, keeping my hands on his chest.

And then he sucks in a deep, gasping lungful of air, warmth flooding his cheeks as he jolts awake, both hands locking around my wrists.

He blinks up at me as my sobs renew, choking through me so hard and so fast I can barely breathe.

“It’s you,” he gasps.

“It’s us,” I weep, finally lifting my hands from his chest. The tuxedo shirt and jacket are still torn, but beneath is newly healed skin, complete with his glittering scar. I grasp his hands and bring them to my mouth, pressing my lips to his knuckles. “It’s us.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

LOLA

Enzo pulls Nic from me, wrapping his arms around his torso, eyes rimmed in red. “You just had to get in on our heart action, didn’t you?” he teases, grinning as he sniffs. “Couldn’t let me keep Lola all to myself, huh?”

Nic laughs, which turns into a cough as I chuckle through my tears. I lean against their shoulders, letting my tears drip onto their sleeves as I try to finally catch my breath. His heartbeat is a third echo to mine in my chest, strong and steady.

He’s going to be okay. He’s alive.

“Astra?” a voice calls from behind.

Frowning, I turn to see Estelle jerking through the trapdoor toward me. She must have injured herself fighting Laurel, because her legs seem stiff. “Are you all right?”

Why did she call me Astra?

“I . . . Yes,” I say, rubbing tears from my eyes as unease twists in my stomach. “Where’s Laurel and the others?”

“Still downstairs fighting.” She moves to inspect the astral spectral diffuser on the corner of the roof. “I wanted to check on you.”

“We’ve almost made it,” I say, nodding at the eclipse. “I’d say we have less than a minute left until the moonshard seals itself.”

Estelle pauses. “Less than a minute,” she repeats.

“Until the eclipse hits totality?” I frown. This isn’t Estelle.