Just kept taking those shallow, stuttering breaths that were getting further and further apart.
His hands moved to her shoulders. Shook her gently. "Brynn. You're stronger than this. You survived the Forsaken realm. You faced down Caelum. You can survive this."
Nothing.
Her chest rose. Fell.
Didn't rise again.
Three seconds. Four. Five.
His own breathing stopped. Waiting. Willing her lungs to work.
Six seconds. Seven.
Then a gasping breath that sounded like drowning.
He pulled her against his chest, cradling her. Her body was limp in his arms. The woman who'd never stopped fighting had finally gone still.
Because he could see it now.
Her soul.
It was separating.
Translucent, shimmering, like heat-haze rising from summer stone. The essence of everything that made Brynn who she was. Her fierce defiance, her sharp wit, her refusal to back down even when facing monsters.
All of it pulling away from her body.
The connection between soul and body was visible to him. Threads of silver light anchoring her essence to her physical form.
They were fraying.
Snapping one by one.
Even as he watched, one thread broke. The sound was silent, but he felt it in his own body. A tearing sensation behind his ribs, like something was being ripped out of him too. His stomach dropped. His vision swam.
Her soul lifted. An inch above her body now.
"No." His hands tightened on her. Fingers digging into her shoulders. "No, no, no."
Another thread snapped.
Her soul rose higher. Still connected, but the pull was getting stronger.
He could feel it starting. Multiple directions. Different courts reaching for her.
The Violent court wanted her warrior's death. She'd fallen in battle, fighting to the last. The Consumed reached for her obsessive determination. The way she'd poured everything into closing that gateway. The Lingering pulled at her unfinished business. All the things left unsaid between them.
And the Forsaken.
His realm.
Reaching for her because she'd died while he was consumed by rage. Unable to protect her. The exact moment of abandonment that defined those who came to his court.
He saw it with horrible clarity. Her consciousness fragmenting. Pieces of who she was torn apart and scattered across realms. Each piece aware. Each piece suffering. Each piece calling for the others that would never come.
Part of her trapped in the Tower of Screaming Winds, replaying Caelum's attack forever. Golden light hitting her chest. The impact. The pain. Over and over and over. Screaming his name while he never came.
