I rush to her side,and the plate crashes to the floor. I lift her from the water in a single panicked motion.
She’s on fire—it'snot just a fever, the bond is trying to forge a bridge between us out of raw, molten energy—the air around her ripples with bond magic.
Where my fingersmeet her skin, the heat no longer warms me—it sears through my palms in a frantic, pulsating demand that my own blood screams to answer.
“We haveto try and bring this fever down, Saelûn.”
Guilt slams into me.I’m doing this to her. My denial is making her body turn against itself.
“I’m going to help you,”I promise, though the words taste bitter as they come out.
“Please,”she whispers, barely above a breath.
The sound tears me apart.I grab a towel and wrap her in it, swearing silently that if I can’t claim her, I’ll worship her in every other way the Gods allow.
I pressa kiss to her forehead, her cheek, her temple. Each one feels like trying to put out a forest fire with a single drop of rain. “I'm going to cool you down,” I whisper. “I'm going to be the ice to your fire, Saelûn. I'll give you everything I am, everything I have, until the ache recedes.”
She lies stillin my arms—doesn’t grip my shoulders or try to hold herself upright. She just... gives up. All that fierce energy finally drained away until there's nothing left but exhausted surrender.
I may bethe ruler of this forest, but I am a tyrant to her. I’m ruling with a silence that’s killing her, withholding the one thing—the only thing—that can stabilize the magic currently tearing through her cells.
But what happenswhen I finally give in? What if next time he uses more than a tranquilizer?
Her head lollsagainst my chest, umber hair draped over my arm like fresh ink spilled over snow.
Every steptoward the bed feels like moving through quicksand.
Nak’mai.Mai’kaelûn. Nakshi’mai. (My fault. My bond. My denial.)
The Gods woveour souls together and told me to protect her—to cherish her, to claim her when the time was right. I knew her heat would come, but I had no idea it would be like this—watching her burn alive while I stand by helplessly, because the one thing that could save her from suffering is the one thing that would destroy us both.
I teareverything off the bed and lay her gently onto the mattress. She whimpers from the contact.
“I know, Saelûn,”I whisper, voice breaking. “I know it hurts. I’m so sorry.”
Thrû’kai nai ves’kresh—nakâheal sha, nakâ coll mai’kaelûn burn. (My words are useless—they cannot heal her, cannot cool my bond’s fire.)
My hands shakeas I cover her with a thin silk sheet.
She tremblesfrom the effort it takes just to breathe through the waves of heat crashing over her.
“Andrik...”Her voice is barely a rasp. I’m on my knees beside the bed before the word fully leaves her lips. “I’m here. I’m right here.”
Her eyes flutter open,unfocused and cloudy with delirium.
She reaches for me weakly.“Please... don't leave.”
The plea shatterssomething primal in me. As if I could. As if there’s anywhere in this world, or the next, that I’d rather be than at her side.
“Never,”I breathe, catching her hand, pressing my lips to her knuckles, then to the ring Toffee gave her.
“Never, Lumi. I swear it.”
She tries to nod,but another tremor wracks through her. Her back arches off the bed, and a soft cry spills from her lips before she can bite it back.
If I claim her now,while he’s still out there, still circling my domain like rot, I risk losing her forever. What kind of gods would do this?
“I’m goingto take care of you, lumina’ka,” I say again.
