Auren’s expression gentles. “Be near her. Let your bonds open. Let her feel your presence, your emotions, your—” He pauses. “Your love. If she’s as powerful as I think she is, her Ether will do the rest.”
His gaze shifts to the massive bed that dominates the room, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “Why do you think a tiny woman needs a bed that size?”
The implication settles over us like a weight.
“What do you need from us?” Rhett asks.
“Right now? Nothing.” Auren moves toward the door. “I’m going to have food and water brought up. Clean clothes. Medical supplies. You’re going to stay near her, sleep next to her.” His amber eyes are serious. “And then, when she wakes, we’re going to figure out how to keep her alive long enough to end the bastard who did this to her.”
He pauses in the doorway, looking back at Bree’s still form.
“She’s going to need you whole when she wakes,” he says quietly. “Not broken. So rest. Heal. Prepare.” His voice drops. “Because whoever trapped her in the Void? They’re not going to let her go easily.”
Then he’s gone, leaving us alone with Bree and the weight of everything we almost lost.
I sink onto the bed next to her, my hand finding hers beneath the sheets. Her skin is cold. Too cold.
But her pulse beats steady beneath my fingers.
Warming as my skin begins to tingle everywhere we touch.
She’s feeding.
I smile, laying back. I can finally rest knowing she’s here. Alive.
That I’m doing something to protect her.
Because she’s everything.
Chapter 10
Bree
Warmth.
I feel it before I feel anything else. Not cold. Not the endless ache of the Void pressing against my skin.
Just warmth.
It moves through me in pulses—slow and steady. Eight different rhythms, each one humming somewhere beneath my ribs where the bonds live.
Heat that crackles. Wind that whispers. Something heavy that anchors. Light that clarifies. Emptiness that no longer feels so empty.
They’re here.
I try to open my eyes, but my body won’t listen. Everything feels too heavy—like I’m wrapped in something thick, stuck somewhere between asleep and awake. But the warmth keeps pulling me back, coaxing me toward the surface one breath at a time.
The air smells different. Not metal like the Void. Not dust and old stone like the sanctuary. This smells like sunlight. Like citrus and something rich.
Silk against my skin. Cool sheets.
I’m not in the Void anymore.
The thought cracks something open. Relief so sharp it almost hurts.
They found me.
My Ether stirs—sluggish but awake. It reaches out on its own, following the threads back to wherever they lead. Pulling warmth and color back into me like I’m a cup that’s been empty too long.
