My gaze snapped to the sky. Storm clouds still churned above us, thickening until the air itself seemed to shudder and dim—but the power woven through them did not answer to me, nor to Winter. It carried a different signature entirely. One I knew too well.
A shadow tore free from the clouds, plunging toward the battlefield at impossible speed. Navy hair whipped wildly through the wind. Familiar limbs twisted, unbalanced, tumbling through open air, and my heart stuttered to a stop.
Everly.
But there were no wings to catch her. No mana slowing her fall.
Because she wasn’t flying. She was falling.
Chapter 9
Everly
Ihardly registered falling before icy air encased me, tinged with the feel of Draven’s mana, until I landed in a soft pile of fresh snow.
It should have been freezing, but my veins were already solid ice, the frigid burn more potent than the endless waves of dragon fire.
I squeezed my eyes shut, clenching my fists against the pain until talons pierced into my skin. It was a reminder that I was real, whole, made of flesh and bone, not just a vessel for the power that was threatening to consume me one agonizing pulse at a time.
But the more I tried to suppress the surges, the harder the power fought back. The shadows were feral, hungry. Predatory. Like they were ready to rip free of my ribcage at the slightest provocation. And the Winter mana was rigid and sharp, lashing outward in jagged bursts as if trying to carve a path through my bones.
Both sides snarled and tore at each other inside me like rival beasts fighting for a hold on the same territory. And,unfortunately for me, that territory just so happened to be my internal organs.
One breath in, then out. Another, but it wasn’t enough. I could feel it bursting from my veins—ice… and shadows—mana that would be wholly out of place in the middle of the Winter Court.
Not that I would need to worry much about appearances if the mana killed me first… Something that was feeling more and more likely with each agonizing breath.
Shards blasted hells.
Panic clawed up my throat as another wave pulsed through me. Too much; it was too much.
Then Draven’s face was in front of mine. Aurora-lit eyes burned from his perfect, chiseled features. His razor-sharp jaw was clenched, and his blood-spattered skin was threaded through with black veins.
Shadows.
Myshadows. Were they hurting him?
I sucked in another breath, trying to pull back the mana that was consuming him instead of me.
No.No. No. No.
Draven’s hand clenched around my arm, his fingers pressing into my skin as an icy calm stole over me. Then the wordsMorta Mearesounded in my head just before the world disappeared once more. Only this time, the darkness was familiar, comforting.
At least, until we landed in his rooms, and the full force of my husband’s ire accosted me from his side of the bond.
“What in all of the hells just happened?”
The power that had been raging from within me had quieted to more manageable tremors.
I blinked, panic swallowing me whole as I scanned every inch of Draven’s skin. When there wasn’t a single shadow leftwrithing through his veins, I took a steadying breath. He was safe.
My skin still felt too tight, like there was something itching to escape, but I no longer felt in danger of combusting from the inside out.
Which was good, since I would clearly need all of my faculties for the conversation ahead.
Draven’s grip was still firm around my arm, strong without bruising. While the shadows had ebbed away, they’d left weariness in their place.
Weariness and undiluted fury.
