Hope sprung. “He’s back?” she rasped.
“I don’t think he’s in any shape to be of help,” Týr grunted.
“It’s been two days since their return from the fae realm, Týr,” Kira informed him, her eyebrows tipping in a V.
The gods knew Ely was aware of how dangerous this time could be for his mate, as Echo lay in a healing sleep after mending a supernatural rent between realms—one that depleted her natural life force. She’d seen it happen.But what about my mate?Ely wanted to yell. Instead, she pressed Nate’s scaly hand to her heart. Head lowered, she shut her tear-filled eyes.
Aethan, please, I beg of you, help me,she telepathed him.
No response.
Goddess, why would no one help them? More tears slipped free as hope slid further and further away from her…
Voices murmured. Feet shuffled.
“What’s wrong, Ely?”
At that quiet voice, her head snapped up, and she met Aethan’s gunmetal-gray eyes. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it registered he appeared as if he’d been through hell, too.
She smoothed back Nate’s singed hair, and some charred parts broke off. “He…he’s dying.”
Aethan studied her for a silent second. Nik rose, and Aethan hunkered down at her side, his attention on Nate’s gaunt features, the scaly snout still visible. “Your mate?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “He is badly wounded. I’m not sure if what I do will bring him back—”
“No.” She dashed her wet face with her fist. “Don’t say that.”
He exhaled deeply. “Let him go. This will hurt you.”
“I’m not leaving him alone to face this.”
“She’s what keeps him here,” Aba said, then he added at Aethan’s frown, “I’m Nate’s sire. And Shadow’s.”
Aethan inclined his head and raked back his multi-hued blue hair, a tic working his jaw. Arms braced on his leather-clad thighs, he waited.
“Why aren’t you doing anything?” she demanded, barely hearing Nate’s heartbeat any longer.
“I need true death for this to work.”
“What—?”
A sharp inhale broke through her anguish. It seemed to come from the depths of a soul as if the person was starving for oxygen or taking their last breath.
“Nate, no!” she cried. “Don’t leave me!”
A soft breeze coasted over her.
And then his eyelids flickered open, revealing dull, pain-drenched, red-hued eyes.
“Ely?” he croaked, the word barely audible. “Ma’laika?”
She blinked in shock, blood thundering to her head. He had awakened? A smile trembled. She could barely see him through her tears. “Aye, it’s me.”
“Don’t cry…” He reached up, but his arm fell again as if it were too heavy. “I’m not worthy.”
Ely grasped his icy hand with its deadly talons, bringing them to her cheek. A sob strangled in her throat. “You are, and so much,me’morae.”
