The word comes out raw. Barely human.
I pull her closer. Tighter. My body curls around hers like instinct, like protection, like I can shield her from everything that’s already happened if I just hold on long enough.
“Stellan.” Thane’s voice is closer now. Careful. “You can’t take all of it. You’ll—”
“I can take it.”
“You’ll kill yourself.”
“She can’t hold this alone.”
The pain burns through my veins. I can feel it tracing silver lines under my skin, visible now, glowing faintly in the dim aftermath of the blast. Every breath is agony. Every heartbeat pushes more of her suffering into my body.
I don’t care.
I almost lost her. I will not lose her again.
“Let him.” Wes’s voice. Quiet. Understanding something the others don’t. “But we feed him. So he can keep going.”
I breathe deep.
Then I feel it—a hand on my shoulder. Solid. Warm. Magic flowing through the contact.
Thane.
He doesn’t try to pull me away. Just anchors himself there, and I feel his power threading into me. Steadying. Strengthening.
Another hand—on Thane’s shoulder. Rhett. Fire-warmth spreading through the chain.
Then Theo touching Rhett.
Jace touching Theo.
Wes touching Jace.
Gray last—one hand on Wes’s shoulder, the other stretched toward Seth’s unconscious form, completing some circuit I don’t fully understand.
Magic flows.
Through the chain. Into me. Out of Bree as my magic pulls past breaking.
Silver and white light arcs between each touch point, visible threads connecting us all. I feel their strength pouring in—their power, their love for her, their desperate need for her to survive.
And still I take more.
I pull harder. The corruption burns as it passes through me—Void-dark and vicious, fighting every inch of the way. But I don’t stop. I drag it out of her piece by piece, letting it shred me instead of her.
My body glows dangerously bright.
The pain is—
I can’t describe the pain.
But her heartbeat strengthens under my palm.
Her breathing evens.
The frantic silver flickering under her skin begins to calm.
