And I force it back in.
The moment my hands close over the fragile ember of his essence, a violent, unnatural force rips through me. It’s like trying to force a door shut against a hurricane—like trying to stuff something too big into a space too small. My entire body seizes, pain exploding through my limbs, my chest, my head—every single nerve in my body rebelling against it.
But I don’t stop.
I won’t stop.
A scream claws its way out of my throat as Cassian’s body jerks. His back arches violently off the pavement, his mouth opening in a silent, broken gasp as his soul collides back into his flesh. His fingers twitch. His chest rises sharply. The color rushes back into his skin like ink spilling across a page, and for a split second—just one—he looks more alive than he ever has before.
And then the backlash hits me.
Hard.
A crushing, all-consuming weight crashes down on me. My vision fractures at the edges, colors bleeding into darkness, my breath catching in my chest like a bird in a too-small cage.
No.
No.
I grit my teeth, fighting to hold on, to stay upright. But it’s like something inside me is being ripped away.
My power.
My being.
My very soul.
It’s too much.
I stagger back, my arms wrapping around my middle as something sharp and wrong lances through my chest. I feel…less then. Like my life juice is being drained out of me.
And then—nothing.
I can’t move.
I can’t speak.
I barely have the energy to keep my eyes open.
Pain—my traitorous little raven—lets out a strangled, panicked croak from somewhere nearby, but even that sound is fading, warping like it's being sucked down a drain.
Then—hands.
Strong. Rough. Warm.
Someone catches me before I hit the ground.
Someone is saying my name.
I think it’s Cassian.
Or maybe it’s Talon.
Maybe both.
I don’t know.
The darkness rises up to meet me.
