Ba-dum.
Ba-dum.
The heat in my chest is different now. It’s transformed into a rhythmic, steady beat.
“Go get Frost and Crane,” a lyrical voice rasps nearby. “She’ll wake soon.”
Someone else says something quietly, but it feels a million miles away as unnatural drowsiness continues to toy with my consciousness, pulling me under again. It’s not the same kind of restfulness I get from my Nightmare Prince. This is something I did to myself. It’s the result of a heavy anesthesia-like fae spell I tried to weave into the necromantic-inspired revival spell I recited before?—
Before putting my heart back where it belongs.
Oh, my fucking gods.
I have a heart again. That’s what the unfamiliar rhythm in my chest is.
Fighting the lingering effects of my own spell is a serious fucking challenge. I tried to channel all my holy magic before Ipassed out, andholy hell, it hurt almost as much as the moment Amadeus ripped my heart out.
But now, I feel good. Scratch that—I feel better than I can ever remember feeling.
Aside from the anasthesia-level drowsiness, that is.
“She’s awake?” Everett’s frantic voice works its way through the heaviness of my mind. He sounds out of breath, like he ran here.
“Getting there,” Baelfire agrees before something warm presses against my temple. “Come on, Angel of Death. Two days is way too fucking long to go without seeing your pretty eyes.”
Two days.
That’s not great news. Mostly because with the news of my return raging like a wildfire, Amadeus definitely knows by now. He’s going to make a move soon. I have no way of telling what that move will be, but I don’t like that my matches were left without my protection while I was out.
A coolness settles on my chest before I hear the most relieved sigh in the world from my elemental. The stress has seeped out of his voice. “I could listen to her heartbeat all day.”
“Why didn’t Crane return with you?” Crypt asks Everett as gentle fingertips trace my jaw.
“He’s on his way. Took me a while to get through to him, but not as long as it took trying to get away from that godsdamned war meeting,” he mutters. “The Reformists are gathering here out of hope, but I swear on the gods, if one more person requests entrance to Everbound, I’ll leave them frozen from the waist down on the front lines for the fiends to snack on.”
So violent. I always enjoy when my matches speak my language, but I don’t realize it’s showing up on my face until Baelfire’s breathing catches.
“She can hear us. She just almost smiled.”
“Ima sangfluir?”Silas asks gently. His fingertips skim my temple before he makes an irritated sound. “She’s still working through the spell. Crypt, maybe if you?—”
“I’ve tried for two days straight, Crane. Whatever holy magic she used, it’s kept me out of her beautiful mind.” His voice turns into a soft whisper near my ear. “I’m ravenous for you, love. Come back to us.”
Determined to shake off the lingering effects, I focus on the lack of holy magic burning in my chest. If I’m not using it to stay alive anymore, then I should be stronger. I should be able to?—
I’m not sure how I do it, but the harder I focus, the more an etherial, warm sensation sweeps throughout my body. It burns away the rest of the exhaustion until I can finally open my eyes and sit up.
Gods, what a sight. Four overwhelmingly attractive legacies, all smiling at me. Baelfire is beaming. Everett’s one remaining dimple is on full display. Crypt’s purple gaze sparkles, and Silas gazes intensely at me from the side of the bed where he sits.
Looking at them stirs something unbearably powerful and tender inside me, but it also makes the rhythm in my chest abruptly turn choppy.
I frown at the fucking bizarre sensation. “Ugh. What the fuck?”
“Ouch. Do we really look that bad?” Everett sighs, instinctively reaching up to feel the scar on his face.
His assumption is so preposterous that it draws a surprised laugh from me. If I thought they looked happy to see me awake before, now my entire quintet looks delighted to see me laughing.
“Not even remotely,” I clarify, not bothering to hide my smile. I tap my extra-scarred chest, which I’m not surprised to still find bare. To be fair, I would keep my guys naked all thefucking time, if I could. “I’m just not used to…whatever the fuck it’s doing.”
