His only reply was a deep, ragged growl. I twisted my neck just enough that our lips could meet, then gripped his hair tight with my free hand. Sparks consumed every inch of my body, burning hotter with each thrust and groan, turning us both into kindling for an obscene pyre.
“Harder,” I finally begged, tugging his hair and sinking my teeth into his bottom lip. He obliged, forcing a series of short, rasping cries from me. Magyk built up inside me like a wellspring, pressing outward, threatening to tear me apart and skittering wildly across my skin, but I ignored it. I was far too focused on the corporeal sensation of Devil’s breath on my neck, his bruising fingertips, and the ecstatic ache of my body accommodating his. I never wanted it to end, but I was also desperately overcome by the pressure building inside me.
The sound of Devil’s voice in my ear finally gave me permission to let go. “May…I want to hear you…”
I let a soft, pleading scream out into his mouth as the tension finally broke its banks and rushed over me. His hips jerked, I writhed against him, and our fingers twisted together on top of the mattress. A shiver ran through my entire body as I began to come down, and Devil dropped my leg so he could bring his hand up to cup my cheek.
“Sometimes, I think this must be a dream,” he murmured as I pulled his face down to rest against mine. “Youmust be a dream.”
“I assure you, I am very real,” I laughed.
He eyed me suspiciously. “That’s exactly what someone in a dream would say…”
“Will you try to wake yourself then?” I asked, pulling him back in for a painfully breathless kiss.
“Never,” he sighed. “Never.”
“That could become problematic, since we do have severalpressing,real-world issues to attend to.”
“Not the least of which is…in your hand right now,” Devil said, his tone suddenly clipped. I scarcely had the strength to open my eyes, but when I did, I nearly shouted in alarm. In the palm of my left hand, which was lying open on top of the bed, burned a small flame. It was nothing like the bright fires Devil and Titania could create with their Lightweaving, but pitch black instead, dark as night, with a silvery-green core.
“What is it?” I whispered, afraid to move even a single muscle.
“It…it must be because of the blood bond,” Devil guessed. “An amalgamation of your shadows and my fire, perhaps, but…I have never seen anything like it before.”
I smiled and wriggled my fingers, causing the flame to jump higher with a faintsnap. When I twisted my hand, it followed, the same way my shadows did, but this new magyk felt different. The shadows were thick, sluggish, and had to be worked like clay into whatever shape I needed. My healing magyk was a thread, pulled off a spool—finite and limited. This dark flame was…everything; sharp and wary, like holding a tiny, hungry, living creature. I pulled away from Devil and sat up on the bed, but he moved behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“It’s beautiful,” he murmured. “Probably quite deadly too.”
“Do you think it might help against the Rot?”
“It is a distinct possibility…”
“Then I ought to try it right away,” I said, quickly trying to stand up. But Devil grabbed me around the waist and shifted my hair to one side.
He pressed his lips to the love-bitemark he’d left on the side of my neck and murmured, “Yes, yououghtto, but…”
I closed my fist and the dark fire vanished, then tipped my head back and let his hand roam over my exposed throat.
“Our friends need us now,” I told him. “So does the Arden.”
He let out a low grumble and pulled our bodies flush against each other. A soft, warm sensation washed over me. Not desire, but safety, and contentment, and familiarity. Something deeper and truer than anything I’d ever felt, but that still frightened me; something that planted a seed of desperation in my chest. Desperation to keep him safe, to protect the home and family I’d found. Desperation not to lose anyone else, the way I’d lost Locksley. Even though I knew desperation often led to disaster, I could not find it in me to root the seed out and discard it. Instead, I buried it deeper—a last resort, should it ever come to that.
After cleaning up and getting dressed, Devil and I made our way down the hill toward Aliena’s cottage. It was still quite early, and chilly, but even without my moth cloak, I could hardly feel it. Another effect of the blood bond, I assumed. As we walked, I played with my dark flames, testing them by tossing small fireballs between my hands. I couldn’t help but smile at the joyful, dynamic feeling of the new power, but all that joy was erased as soon as we came within view of the cottage. All fourteen of the Abbey girls were seated around Aliena’s fire pit, along with Larch and his family, Briony, Arachne, and almost two dozen other residents of the Hollow, all looking harried and frightened. Jon was there too, in bear form, pacing and scraping his giant claws through the dirt. On the other side of the creek stood Lord Balthazar and his herd, also clearly on edge.
“What’s going on?” Devil called out to Larch.
“The Rot is here,” said the faun quietly. “In the Hollow, up near the falls. No one’s been caught by it yet, but it’s spreading, albeit very slowly.”
Devil’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “Just like that? Overnight?”
“Yes,” Larch sighed, then he looked to me. “I am sorry for what happened to your Abbey.”
I opened my mouth to thank him, but Aliena interrupted with a cry of shock. “You’re alright!” She was standing in front of Devil, examining his now-closed wounds. “You nearly bled out last night and now all you have are scars? How?”
All eyes in the clearing turned toward us, and I looked at Devil, expecting him to answer. But he just took my hand and stayed silent, deferring to me.
“It’s…we…did something that let me heal him,” I tried to explain. “A blood bond.”
