“He’s too far gone, Avery. You have to stop!”
“I have to try to save him, Rodric. We all would have died without him!”
“It’s not worth the risk.” The horrible admission slipped from him, the betrayal to his best friend lancing through him painfully. But he couldn’t lose both of them, and Damien was beyond saving.
Avery pushed her hands into Damien’s wounds, blood staining her pale skin. Pure white magic radiated around her, practically pouring out of her in waves.
“Yes, it is. I’m not letting him die without trying.” Her light intensified to a terrifying brightness for a few moments before she collapsed, shaking, on top of Damien, light winking out in a flash.
“No! Avery!”
Bright green eyes met his as she reached out to touch his face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough. I love you, brother.”
Lightning sparked through him with a harsh zap, combusting the worry suffocating him into a fire that consumed his soul.
“Avery!” Tears streamed down his face, clogging his throat when he tried to speak. Ash rained down around them as he pulled her into his lap, hugging her still form close.
Rodric choked, throat raw and scratched from trapped screams as the scene before him faded and he succumbed to the black depths of his mind.
“Rodric!”
Gentle pressure on his chest pulled Rodric back to the present, and he grabbed for Celina’s arm like a lifeline, holding her close as he waited for his world to steady.
“Easy. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” Her hands stroked over his chest in slow, soothing movements.
Breathing deeply, he focused on the feel of her fingers as they ran over his chest, until he could feel each individual one as it glided over his bare skin. The weight of her palms became a touchstone for his chaotic mind.
Finally, his lungs quit seizing, and he felt stable enough to open his eyes. Celina was sitting next to him on the bed, legs crossed beneath her as she quietly calmed the storm ravaging him with her gentle touch.
“Hey there. You made it back.” A soft, worried smile covered her face.
“I… Yes. Thank you.” He swallowed the emotion that tried to choke him as remnants of the dream slipped out of its box, lock broken by the onslaught of memory. “Sorry I woke you.” He must have been thrashing loudly for her to hear him from the next room.
“Rodric.” She waited until he met her gaze. “I’m a healer, and I work most often with the warriors. I’ve seen and experienced a lot of horrific things. You don’t need to apologize for a nightmare.” Her fingers caressed his forehead, pushing his sweat-tangled hair away.
Yeah, he knew. Her being a healer terrified him. Pierced him straight through the heart. He had pushed it out of his mind on their ride, been distracted by Sam during the meal, but now, it came rushing back.How long until she gives her life for someone else’s and leaves me too?
He flinched and sat up, moving away from her to the side of the bed. The desire to get to Zora and run flowed through him in a steady torrent, hindered only by Celina’s presence, calling him in a different way.
Proving herself a veteran at working with stubborn warriors, Celina settled on the bed, giving him space and quiet to come to terms on his own, her proximity supportive but nonintrusive.
Dropping his head down, he breathed deep, trying to exorcise the smells and sounds from his dream. The vividness had left his mind reeling, grief just as raw and strong as that day so many years ago. Avery. Damien.Sam.
He shook his head, disbelieving. Damien’s little brother—the boy who had trusted Rodric to lead him and his sisters out of a burning building—was asleep down the hall in this house, alive and whole. As leaders of the magic rights group that had been targeted that day, the Zafar family had been persecuted, hunted until they all died or disappeared, down to the youngest child.
He’d been terrified and argued vehemently when his mother had joined the group, wanting to fight for a better future for Avery. They’d paid the price for their involvement that day, for their attempts to change Eldrin society’s approach to dealing with the magic that was slowly growing in their population.
Rodric had heard about the tragedies that struck the Zafar family as the community turned on them after news of the fire spread; but, preoccupied as he was with his own anger and grief at the death of his mother and sister, he hadn’t had room for them in his rage.
Furious at the senseless death of his family, at how his father reproached his own wife and daughter in order to maintain his standing when the rumors began to surface, Rodric had run. Dropping warrior training, he had disappeared into the woods. Choosing a new, solitary way of life, away from magic, away from the memory of death, from the community that had failed them.
Haunting moments of his life consumed his mind as he sat at the edge of the bed, time indistinguishable.
Celina’s soft voice eventually broke through his haze. “I’m afraid of thunderstorms.”
“What?”
“Thunderstorms.” She opened her eyes to look at him. “They give me terrible nightmares. Flashbacks, actually.”
