Page 136

Something completely and wholly Idril.

It’s sunlight breaking through a never-ending storm. It pours into me through our Bond, fighting against the creeping, insidious death trying to take over.

The poison resists, but that bright golden warmth fights harder and harder, straining until finally, it starts pushing it back with wave after wave of determination and…

Love.

That’s what it is.

I’ve known love through the centuries. The love of my parents when I was young, before greed and prophecy ruled their lives. The love of my friends and brothers-in-arms. The love of my pack—strong, stalwart, and loyal.

But this… this is new. It’s all-consuming and ancient. Raw and limitless and without stipulations or expectations.

This is love in its truest, most beautiful form, and it’s fighting the silver with a ferocity that can only belong to one other being on earth.

Idril.

This isn’t possible. Mate Bonds don’t work like this. You can sense emotions, sometimes proximity, but not this. There’s no transfer of energy. Of life.

My denial is fleeting—there and gone in an instant.

I’m starting to realize that what I think I know doesn’t matter. Not when that glittering, comfortable warmth continues to fight, alive and undeniable in its conviction.

Idril’s unconscious. Dying. Each of her injuries flicks through my mind like a terrible movie, reminding me of what she’s been through. The bruises around her neck, her father’s backhand, the loss of blood, her head cracking against the marble floor.

She was already weak. Starving and exhausted before I even stepped into the house tonight.

And yet somehow—somehow—she’s keeping me alive. Feeding me strength through a Bond neither of us understands. Sending her own life force down that pulsing silver thread.

I can feel it. I can taste it on my tongue, like honey and vanilla and power.

So much fucking power, in such a small body.

My Mate. My beautiful Mate. Unconscious, injured, and still reaching for me. Protecting me.

A sob lodges itself in my throat. She’s saving me—giving her life for mine—and I can’t do anything to save her in return.

I surrender to the warmth of her love, where I float, suspended in a sort of half-sleep as she pulls me away from death itself.

She made me a vow, and against all fucking odds, she’s keeping it.

I have no idea how long I float in that suspended reality. It could be minutes or days before the sound of a door bursting open yanks me back to consciousness.

They’re here.

My pack is here.

The relief is palpable. I want to shout out to them. I beg my mouth to work so I can tell them to find our Mate.

For Fate’s sake, save Idril. Save our Mate!

It’s the only thing that matters. I need Vae and Dax to find Idril. I need to tell them she’s our Fated Mate. Our Scent Match.

I feel them before I see them, my vision blurred and black around the edges. My packmates race down the hall, their booted feet beating against the stone.

They skid to a stop. There’s cursing, barked commands, and fingers on my flesh that hurt like hell itself.

Just before my eyes slide shut, I hear Dax’s voice—thunderous and full of rage.