She thanked every god in the universe and the billion stars gazing down at them that he still breathed. And he recognized her.
He grimaced. Then his large, bony frame stiffened, and he groaned, his red-streaked eyes rolling back. A harsh, rattled breath escaped, and his eyelids shut. He passed out again, and the air around him swirled like snow in a storm.
“Wh-what’s happening?” she croaked, her gaze rushing around. Her Guardian brothers watched, seeming as startled as she was.
“I’m not sure.” Aba reached through the air storming around Nate and pressed a palm to his bare, tattooed chest. “His heart beats, but he’s deathly cold. We have to take him indoors, keep him warm.”
Silence.
They would leave Nate here on the portico because he’s a demon?“Please, don’t all agree at once,” she snapped.
“He’s my brother, we can’t leave him outside!” Shadow protested, swiping her wet cheeks.
“Never mind.” Ely put her hand on Aba, keeping the other on Nate.
Before she could dematerialize them, Týr growled, “Wait. But only while we sort this out, Ely. You know this is against the rules.”
Hell, she’d broken so many, she’d deal with it when she came to that bridge.
“I’ve lowered the wards,” Hedori said.
Then shocking her, Týr moved forward, picked up her gaunt mate, and stalked to the opening front door.
Ely leaped up and hurried after him into the warm foyer.
“Yo. Something’s happening to him.” Tyr hastily set Nate down on the massive Aubusson rug near the grand staircase and hunkered down next to him.
Ely fell to her knees at his side. She reached out to touch Nate, and it felt like her hand was moving through molasses, the white glow surrounding him thickening the air.
Aba crouched next to her, turned Nate onto his side, and lifted the fabric she’d tied around the wounds where his missing wings had been.
Ely gaped. The deep cavities were healing faster now, and the dull oval stone at the top of his spine flickered in a dim yellow glow, streaked with red—the color reflecting in the three smaller ones. The bleeding, empty node where the wraconis symbiont had been had healed, too.
“Is it awakening?” Ely asked, terror and hope warring with each other. Hope that he would live, and terror that those symbionts were from the same beast he’d once housed. “Please, please tell me it’s not from the same creature.”
Gods, she didn’t ever want to see that monster again!
“No, it’s not from the beast you destroyed…” Aba’s brow furrowed at the flickering symbionts. “I gave him my blood first after he was shot and needed an infusion, but mine, like most beings’ plasma, don’t form symbionts,” he said, frowning. “The male wyvern ones tend to, not that I knew it wasn’t that creature’s blood at the time, and the wraconis do as well—”
“What do you meanwraconis?” Týr demanded.
“They are similar to wyverns but bigger, stronger,” Aba said. Ely remained silent, grateful Aba had left out just how perilous and malevolent they were. “Anyway,” he continued. “It took hold faster and brought him back, but the others faded, leaving behind the dull stones.” He gently touched the smaller ones and shook his head in disbelief. “I thought they died,” he murmured almost to himself.
Apparently not. For which Ely was eternally grateful. But the red streaks there worried her.Goddess, please, please don’t let the wraconis’ blood revive.
A door opened and shut, sending a waft of icy air through the foyer. Pounding footsteps echoed.
“Ely?”a voice roared.
Her friends parted.
Her brother barreled toward her like the warriors of old, minus weapons, determined to save her.
“Michael just informed me you were back. Dammit, Ely! You can’t just vanish without a word—” Reynner hauled her up, his terrified stare rushing over her, studying the visible bruises on her face and arms and the bloodied slashes on her biceps and chest. Since she’d been healing Nate, her self-healing had slowed considerably.
“Shit! You’re hurt and bleeding! Why aren’t you healing?” he demanded, then picked up her dark, much shorter strands. She hadn’t realized so much of her hair had burned off. “Your hair…”
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” She wiped her wet cheek with the back of her hand. “It’ll grow back—”
