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—the dagger opens a violent gash down the length of my arm.

Zev swears, loud and panicked.

Hot blood gushes from the wound, coating my clothes, seeping into the wet earth. Zev scrambles over to me, knocking the dagger from my hands. He holds out my wrist, and the blood flows faster.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses. “You need to heal yourself.” With two quick clicks, he uncuffs me, the iron bracelets falling to the ground with a dull thud.

My eyes flutter closed.

“Skies, Mayah—focus.” He shakes my shoulders. “You’re bleeding too fast. Heal yourself.Now.”

Chapter Fifty-Three

Themomenttheirondrops, my power surges back like water breaking through a dam. It’s hot, it’s cold, it’s everything at once—slamming into me like a second heartbeat.

My blood drips onto the ground in a steady stream.

The air thickens, until it’s difficult to draw breath. With every inhale, my eyelids stay closed just a second longer.

“Mayah.” Zev’s panicked voice is in my ear. He shakes my shoulders again. “Heal yourself.Please.”

I close my eyes, searching for my power. A soft, whimpering moan escapes me.

“What? There’s nothing in your bloodstream. The iron is gone. You should—” His voice cracks as I slump against him. My eyes are closed. His panicked breath flutters through my hair, and his chest rises and falls rapidly against my cheek.

Blood still seeps from my wrist.

“Fuck, Mayah. Just—Lightning strike me, just hold on.” He falls silent, palms pressed on either side of my neck.

At first, there’s nothing. Not a single sound, not a whisper, not even a breeze, as if the entire forest is holding its breath along with him.

Then it hits.

A familiar rush, hot and heady andhim. Zev’s power surges through me, mingling and twisting with my own.

His power revitalizes me. Invigorates me.

He cradles my face. “Try now,” he urges. “Quickly.”

I call to my power. My hand glows with soft, white light, and I pass it over the weeping gash in my arm. My skin mends, the edges of the deep cut knitting together.

Zev breathes a sigh of relief, sitting on his heels as the deep wound knits back together.

Until it doesn’t.

The light from my hand stutters, the white glow flickering gently at first, then faster, until it vanishes completely.

The cut is only half healed. Fresh blood still oozes out steadily. Slowly, I meet Zev’s wide eyes with my own. I swallow hard, breath escaping in sharp pants.

Without a word, he returns his hands to my neck, channeling yet more of his power into me. It crackles through my body like lightning trapped in bone.

I’ve never felt this way—invincible.

Like I could do anything. Everything.

My healing power thrums inside me, and my hands glow once more. This time, it doesn’t waver. I heal the gash on my wrist, then my bloodied ankles and split lip.

Zev watches in silence.