“It doesn’t matter.”
“Cairn—”
“It doesn’t matter.” I close the distance between us and cup her face between my palms. “The only thing that matters is keeping him out long enough for you to think.”
The barrier shudders, the mage’s magic scraping against it. I grit my teeth.
“You said you don’t know what it will do to me.”
“I don’t.”
“You said no human has ever?—”
“They haven’t.”
She holds my gaze. Her eyes are tired and afraid.
The barrier cracks. We’re running out of time.
My thumb brushes over her lips.
“The magic chose you, Alleria. It’s been reaching for you since the beginning. I have to believe that means something.”
Her eyes search my face. I lean my forehead against hers.
“Aethryn, please.”
She closes her eyes. The barrier begins to fail, crumbling under the mage’s onslaught. Her fingers come up to stroke over my jaw, then her lips touch mine.
“Yes. I accept.”
The Nightwild magic doesn’t need anything more. It surges through me with a violence that makes her gasp, weaving around her, binding her tighter, linking her to the Guard in ways they will feel. On the periphery of my awareness, the fae surrounding me echo her gasp, and I throw out a hand, drawing on their power, even as I ready my own, and pour it into Alleria.
It wraps around her mind, forming a barrier the mage will never break through, and then I’m thrown back into my body.
“Cairn?” Therin is on his knees beside me. “What is happening?”
I shake my head. I can’t answer. I’m still reeling from the shift, adjusting to the new thread that’s been woven into my soul, in ways that the Nightwild magic has never done before.
I can feel everything about her—the exhaustion, the fear she’s desperately trying to hide.
But more than that. I can feel the mage. He’s still there, still battering at her defenses, but the Nightwild magic holds. He throws himself against it again and again, and each time he comes away with nothing.
I have you, I whisper down the thread.He can’t reach you now.
Relief floods back through the connection.
I should pull back, return to my body and let the bond settle into whatever shape it’s going to take. But I can’t. I don’t want to leave her defenseless. So I stay.
I wrap myself around her mind like armor, thorns facing outward, and I hold. My body is on the ground outside the capital, the hands of my Guard all touching me, gifting me their strength. But the part of me that matters is with her, anchored tothe bond, refusing to let go.
The mage throws himself against the barrier once more, frustration bleeding through his magic. And then just as suddenly as it started … the pain stops.
I push to a seated position, wiping away the sweat dripping into my eyes with the back of my hand, and look at each of the fae kneeling around me in turn.
“Can you stand?” Therin’s voice is close to my ear.
“I’m fine.”
