But he’s not fine. I can see it in the way his jaw is locked, the way the cords of his neck are standing out. I’m burning him. Every second he holds me, I’m burning him alive.
“Put me down,” I whisper. “Please. I’m hurting you.”
“Not happening.”
“Kyron—”
“Nova.” His voice cracks. “I’m not letting you go.”
We’re moving faster now. Running. The trees blur past and I can’t focus on anything except the fire under my skin and the way it’s eating me alive from the inside out.
“Kyron—” Vaelor’s voice, somewhere to our left. “Your eyes.”
“What about them?”
“They’re glowing.”
I force my head up. Force myself to look at him.
Blue. Bright, impossible blue—not his normal color but something else. Something that’s lighting up from the inside, like ice catching sunlight.
“Almost there,” Beckett calls. “Thirty more feet.”
I smell it before I see it—water and earth and something green. Then the trees open up and there it is. The lake. Glass-still and dark, reflecting the gray sky above.
Locke breaks off, scanning the treeline, the shadows between the trees. Making sure we’re alone. Protecting me even now.
Kyron doesn’t slow down.
He runs straight into the water, still holding me, until it’s up to his waist. The cold hits my legs and I gasp—relief and agony at once, the fire meeting something that might actually fight back.
“Don’t let go,” I manage. My fingers dig into his shirt. “Please. Don’t let go.”
His arms tighten around me. “I won’t. I’m right here.”
He starts to lower me into the water.
The second my body submerges, something goes wrong.
It boils.
Actually boils. Steam erupts around me, the water churning and hissing where it touches my skin. The relief I felt vanishes—replaced by something worse. Something building.
Kyron cries out. His arms jerk back—red and blistered where he was holding me. The water between us is bubbling, steaming, too hot for him to reach through.
“Kyron—”
“I’m okay.” He’s not okay. He’s backing away from me, and I can see the pain on his face, and I did that. I hurt him.
“Get out,” I gasp. “Get out of the water.”
“Nova—”
“GET OUT.”
He goes. Staggers back to the shore where the others are standing, frozen.
And I’m alone.
