I knocked Snow back. I’m more powerful than I give myself credit for.
I can do this. I can save him.
I pull the fur down to his waist, exposing his bare chest. I lay both palms against his skin, one over the faded eclipse, the other above his heart.
I close my eyes and reach down into myself.
I call the shadows first. They come to me like old friends, pooling in my palms, cool and dark and familiar. I look at them, realizing in the next moment that they aren’t what he needs.
It was his light that was stolen.
I lift my hands and reach for my firefae magic.
It answers immediately. Flame erupts from my fingertips, bright and hot and wild. The orange light dances across the cave walls.
He needs warmth and life…not heat and fire. I change what I am asking of my magic, taking a deep breath. I push the fire back down, tamping it down. Warmth spreads through my palms in a deep, steady heat without the flame. I hold my hands above Sebastian’s chest; they glow in just the right way. I don’t actually touch him, but let the heat radiate down into him. The air shimmers between my palms and his skin.
That’s it.
Then I lower my hands and press them flat against him.
He’s cold beneath my touch. I push the warmth into him, all of it, as much as I can sustain without letting the fire break free. I move my hands slowly across his chest, over his ribs, along his abs. I work my way down his arms, wrapping my heated palms around his biceps, his forearms, his wrists, pushing life back into them. I take each of his hands in mine and hold them.
Then back to his chest. Over his shoulders. Down his sides. I run my hands along every inch of exposed skin, pushing heat into cold flesh, willing the life back into him.
I keep going, losing myself in it. My world shrinks to the feel of his skin beneath my hands.
I gasp when I notice that his skin is changing. My magic falters for a second, but I redouble my efforts. Color slowly creeps back into him.
Yes!
It’s working!
I keep going, pressing harder, moving faster, running my heated palms over his torso, his arms, his neck, his face.
Sebastian moans and moves.
His head turns to one side. His fingers twitch against the furs.
“Sebastian?” My voice is hoarse. “Can you hear me?”
I force myself to keep going because it’s working.
His muscles tighten beneath my palms. His chest expands with a deeper breath than any he’s taken since we arrived here. His arms tense. The tendons in his neck stand out.
I keep pushing heat into him.
Then his eyes open.
I gasp as they lock with mine. It’s a sobbing sound. They are beautiful and vivid and so full of life.
He sucks in a ragged breath and sits up so fast that I don’t have time to move. His hands close around my wrists with an iron grip, and he hauls me forward onto his lap. I let out astartled cry as my knees land on either side of his hips, my hands trapped between us.
He’s breathing hard. His chest heaves against mine. His eyes are wide.
“Snow!” He shouts the word like a battle cry, his grip tightening on my wrists. His body is coiled, every muscle taut, and ready to fight.
“It’s me. It’s Isla.” I keep my voice calm. “Sebastian, look at me. You’re safe. She’s nowhere near us.”
