She’s going to die.
It was just like at Vaukore. Just like when Kietel had her. This feeling. On the edge of loosing her was unbearable. His lungs constricted. His hands went numb.
Water filled her lungs.
Water shouldn’t be there.
He fell to his knees with his fists balled up at his sides.
His magic was beating against his head. Against his hands. Tearing at his skin. It screamed at him viciously, just as it had the times he lost control before.
Like those times at the orphanage.
I can’t lose her. I can’t.
And that time with Valeria.
I can’t lose her.
And with Kietel. He hadn’t just killed him and his traitorous army. He had shattered every bone in their bodies. Drained them of every drop of blood.
It was breaking through the walls of his mind, overtaking his senses, his ability to see and breathe. It pounded through him, in synch with his heart.
Let me destroy let me rip let me go, it screamed.I can save her.
His eyes closed. And he took one last controlled breath.
And then he let go.
Magic flooded into his in mind.
Bring her to me, he commanded that power.
Dark and dirty and free magic poured out of him. It slithered across the wet stone and dove into the water.
The Grindylow’s piercing scream was short. Its tentacles loosened around Maeve’s body. The pale green water demon suspended in the water. His own magic circled her and drew her to the surface.
She didn’t gasp for air as her face broke the water.
Those black streams of magic carried her to him. He took her body in his arms, laying her across his lap. She wasn’t breathing. He pushed the hair out of her face.
“Maeve.”
His voice shook. His magic was swirling around them. It flew from behind Mal’s shoulder, straight to her mouth. Her eyes flew open, and she shot up. Mal held her firmly on his lap.
Water poured from her mouth. She was soaking wet. Her hair was stringy and clinging to her cheeks and down her back. She was frantic. Her gaze darted around him, her breathing everywhere with violent water spewing coughs.
He held her, and she tried to push away. The cold water seeped into his own clothes.
He reached for her face, his hands shaking, as magic trickled across his fingertips. Magic he rarely allowed himself to access. She shook him away violently as more water poured from her mouth.
She was a wreck. She was hyperventilating.
Get control, he told himself, as Magic pushed freely through him.
The alternative was unknown. But last time he didn’t, he hurt Valeria.
He grabbed her face once more, his hands slipping across her skin.
