Jamie either didn't hear or chose to ignore the warning.
He reached Corin just as the emotional storm reached its crescendo. The fae's power exploded outward in a final, devastating wave—raw, unfettered emotion that swept through the store like a tsunami.
The creatures caught in its path simply... disintegrated. The void feeders collapsed in on themselves, the winged swarm fell burning from the air, and the tunneling wyrm shriveled like parchment in flame.
And Jamie—human, vulnerable Jamie—took the full force of the blast at close range.
He was thrown backward, his body slamming into a bookshelf that shattered under the impact.
He crumpled to the floor, unmoving.
Silence fell, broken only by the sound of settling debris.
Corin lay unconscious, the massive expenditure of magical energy having finally overwhelmed him.
Around them, the store creaked and groaned, slowly beginning to repair itself—broken floorboards knitting back together, shattered glass reforming in window frames.
Azelon dragged himself to his feet and stumbled to Jamie's side.
Blood matted the human's hair, and more seeped from the wound in his side. But he was breathing; short, shallow breaths that hitched with pain even in unconsciousness.
"He needs help," Azelon said aloud, knowing somehow that the store was listening. "A healing space. Clean water. Medicinal supplies."
The building shuddered, then responded. A doorway appeared in the wall beside them, opening onto a room that hadn't existed before. A healing chamber with a large basin of steaming water, shelves lined with herbs and bandages, and a bed positioned in the center.
Carefully, Azelon gathered Jamie in his arms and laid him down in the bed.
He had failed him.
He had failed Jamie and Corin both.
Chapter
Nine
Jamie lay unconscious on the healing bed, his breathing shallow but stable. The wound in his side had been the worst—a jagged tear where flying debris had caught him—but the store had provided herbs with remarkable healing properties.
The bleeding had stopped, though fever still flushed the human's skin.
Azelon dipped a cloth in cool water and placed it on Jamie's forehead, his fingers lingering for a moment on the human's temple.
Three days of this vigil had worn Azelon thin.
Three days since the attack, since Corin's power had exploded beyond control, since Jamie had thrown himself into harm's way with reckless courage.
Three days of watching both Jamie and Corin suffer, neither fully present.
The door creaked open behind him. He didn't need to turn to know who stood there.
"Is he any better?" Corin's voice was small, nothing like his usual theatrical tones.
"His fever persists," Azelon replied, not looking up. "But his wounds are healing."
Corin hovered in the doorway, not daring to enter. The fae had spent most of the past days locked in his room, emerging only to check on Jamie before retreating again.
"Can I..." Corin's voice faltered. "Can I come in?"
Azelon turned then, studying Corin. His amber eyes dulled with exhaustion, shoulders hunched as if bearing an invisible weight.
