She sleeps in a messy tangle of limbs and blankets I salvaged from storage. I wrap her in the last of the thermal foil and sit beside her like a guardian wraith, my weapon on one side and her on the other. My back against the wall. My eyes on the door.
I talk to her, even though she can’t hear.
About Vorga, my mother. How she used to burn incense before every battle, even though she never believed in the gods. About the pits where we trained as boys, scraping bone against bone for rank and honor. About the Flame Spires of Ulrath during springtime, when the winds shift and the stones glow crimson with the setting suns.
“Would’ve taken you there,” I whisper. “If we hadn’t crashed into hellspace.”
She twitches in her sleep.
Her lips part, and I think maybe she hears me. Maybe the bond is deeper than just blood and fate. Maybe it’s wrapped in something older. Something more cruel.
She doesn’t wake.
I stay awake for both of us.
Because someone has to.
CHAPTER 13
ELLA
Iwake up to the dull ache of too-thin air and the sharp bite of metal under my spine. My skull hums like someone stuck a tuning fork behind my eyes. For a second, I can’t remember where I am. Then I see him.
Takhiss.
He’s crouched a few feet away, elbows on his knees, staring at me like I’m a riddle he hasn’t figured out how to solve. The glow from the emergency panels throws weird shadows across his scales, highlighting every cracked ridge and streak of dried blood. He looks like a war god carved out of obsidian and vengeance.
My mouth is dry. My chest feels like someone sandpapered the inside of my lungs.
“I’m alive?” I croak, voice wrecked.
He grunts. “You lived.”
That’s it. No tender words. No dramatic sigh of relief. Just those two words, like I’m some dumb creature he dragged back from the edge of extinction with nothing but spit and spite.
My face goes hot. “Thanks for the inspirational speech, asshole.”
He shrugs. “You passed out in my arms. Forgive me if I wasn’t feeling poetic.”
“You think that’s funny?” I snap, struggling to sit up. “You think almost dying is a joke?”
“No,” he growls, standing. “But you laughing in your sleep was.”
I gape at him. “I was not laughing.”
“You called me Rael.”
I freeze. Shit. My stomach flips.
“Who’s Rael?” he asks, voice low.
“My brother,” I lie automatically. “Dead.”
He stares at me a second longer than is comfortable, then nods once. Doesn’t push. But something behind his eyes shifts. And I hate how guilty I feel. He saved my life. Again. And I… I kissed him. Didn’t I?
“Did I—?” I begin, then stop.
“You were hallucinating,” he cuts in, too fast. “It wasn’t real.”
