Asmo stands before me, a half-smile on his face. His face is smeared with dirt, his hair covered in dried sweat and blood, and he looks exhausted. He looks perfect.
I burst into tears.
He pulls me into his arms, his fingers gripping me too hard, not hard enough. “Shh, it’s okay. We’re all okay,” he mutters into my hair. And I am. I know I’m okay. I’m breathing. My mate is in front of me. We’re okay.
“How long have I been out?” I mumble into his solid, unyielding chest. The one he was just stabbed in. “Wait, you were stabbed. Are you okay?”
He lets me go, and I fight the protest that forms on my lips. I prop myself up on the cot and look around. We’re in a private space, a thinsheet separating us from the rest of the healing center. It’s bare in here—just a cot, some sterile instruments, and a glass jar of something clear.
“I’m fine.” He leans back in the chair and pulls his shirt up. I ignore the way it sends butterflies straight to my core. A dark blemish mars his chest, just above the snake’s head. “Luca. He was trying to get to you. He threw the dagger toward you, with your back turned. Couldn’t even face you. He didn’t expect me to step in its path. He must have used a dagger imbued with dark magic. Explains why it did so much damage.”
I quirk an eyebrow. If I was stabbed by a dagger, imbued or not, I’m assuming I’d be dead. “Are you not usually impacted by knives to the chest that way?”
“Not usually, no.” He drops his shirt and looks at the floor.
Alright, then. A question for another time. “How long have I been out?” I ask again.
He looks back to me. “Couple hours. The healer thinks you hit your physical and magical limits.”
I guess fighting the First Witch will do that to you. “Is everyone else okay? Cally? Ivan? Holly?”
“Everyone we know is alive. Etta is injured, but she’ll be fine…” He grimaces. “A few people died. But you saved two of the hybrids that we thought the witches had killed.”
I blink. They were dead. I felt their hearts stop. “What? How?”
He shakes his head. “The current theory is…your tears.”
I stare at him, waiting for him to sayJust kidding!He doesn’t. “What?”
He shakes his head and huffs a laugh. “I know. That’s the only thing we can work out. The two that were revived were the ones that you and Elle both cried on. That’s the only commonality. And if you’re direct descendants of Wrena’s line…Her tears broke the curse on your grandfather.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “That sounds…”Impossible? Insane? Like something that’s not supposed to happen?“I take it Marik didn’t come back?”
He shakes his head, the movement slow and heavy. I wish I could shoulder some of its weight. “How are you feeling about…him?” In all ofthis, I never once thought to ask him about his feelings toward his brother. His twin brother. The person he knows better than anyone.
He closes his eyes. “I’m okay. It was the least he could do. He’s responsible for all of this,” he grumbles.
“He’s your brother,” I whisper.
He shifts in his chair, avoids my gaze. “It’s…I don’t want to talk about this right now.”
My instinct is to push, to demand, to pull the feelings out of him. But what good would that do? We’ll have a lifetime to talk about all of the tiny cuts and the huge gashes that have left us hurting and scarred. We’ll have a lifetime to heal each other.
“Okay. What about Elle? Is she okay?”
His expression turns grave, and my heart threatens to burst from my chest. “She’s fine. She’s just not exactly…speaking right now.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “She refuses to talk to anyone. I think you need to talk to her.”
“Take me to her.” Once, the demand would have resulted in a raised eyebrow or a scoff, but now, Asmo scoops me into his arms. Hybrids dart out of the way when they see us coming. Some bow their heads.
The walls of Squall’s End are black, charred from the flames that sought to ravage the underground city. Several hallways are blocked off, rocks and dirt blocking the way from the ceilings caving in. We pass the mess hall, but the doors are warped and stained with black. The smell of smoke still lingers.
“You saved them today,” Asmo mutters as we pass another couple with bowed heads. “Everyone was trapped in the healing center. We think Cora meant for everyone to be locked inside while it burned. Without you…Squall’s End and everyone inside would be dead.”
My heart drops to my stomach. Etta, August, Barrett, Cally…My friends would have burned alive. Innocent hybrids would have died in a war they didn’t ask for. “Without us,” I manage to say. “You saved them, too.”
