I can’t lose my hope.
Mere milliseconds from slamming into her, I brace for the impact of the metal shards into my back, ready for the pain, clamping down hard on my power because I can’t fucking let myself burn so close to her.
Tension thrums through her body, her silver armor hugging her so closely that her muscles are visibly coiled in the process of propelling herself backward, but that’s when her eyes meet mine.
She looks right at me.
Her blue eyes widen, and I catch the whisper she exhales, “Fire.”
I’m not sure what else she would have said if she could.
To my horror, the shards fly straight through me as if I’m nothing more than an apparition.
Fucking… No!
My arms were about to close around her, and I will my right hand to move fast enough, attempting to pluck from the air the metal fragment shooting past my head and right at her face—straight at her left eye.
It sails through my fingers.
I can’t stopany of it.
I do the only thing I can think of.
Use the only connection between us that seems to be solid.
I ram my already-swinging right arm down on the taut thread connecting her heart to mine.
The impact yanks her downward, adding speed to her own evasive movement.
She drops to the floor opposite me, but not fast enough for every shard to miss her.
The lowest-flying blade slices across the edge of her cheekbone.
A thin line of blood blossoms as she crouches so near to me that I should be able to fucking touch her.
I should be able to close my arms around her.
If she can see me… But I can’t touch her…
Her chest heaves with rapid breaths.
Breaths that slow and then, for a painful few heartbeats…
Everything pauses.
My hand is wrapped in the thread, my arm bearing down on it, keeping her pinned opposite me. Her right hand has stretched toward me, reaching for my heart where the thread is anchored.
Nothing moves.
Then she exhales.
Her silver-clad fingertips skim my chest, but I can’t feel her touch.
The way her hand hovers near my torso, her fingers curling inward, indicates she can’t feel me either.
My body may as well be made of the smoke my fire leaves in its wake.
“Thyra!” Antony’s roar cracks across me.
