I trust him. It scares me, but I trust him.
“All right.”
Chapter Eighteen
Zevayrsagswithsomuch relief, I worry he’ll sink into the earth and vanish.
“What do I do?” I ask softly.
“Nothing. Just sit back. I’ll do everything,” he says. Zevayr scoots closer until he’s almost straddling my thighs. His palms press against the sides of my neck, hands cool against my hot, sweaty skin.
At first, there’s nothing.
Just his large hands pressing into my neck, the firm weight of his thighs bracketing mine. I’m about to open my eyes and ask him if he’s doing it right when—
Oh.
There it is.
A rush of power trickling into my veins, strange and unfamiliar. Not mine, but not unwelcome. It flows faster and stronger, the trickle surging into a heady rush and—
Zevayr removes his hands.
“That should do it, I think.” He’s watching me intently, his eyes dark.
“I can feel it. Your power. It’s inside me. It’s—it’s mingling with my own.”
“Yeah. It’s only temporary, though. In another ten minutes, you should be able to heal yourself.”
“Will I be able to control lightning?”
He chuckles. “No. It’ll only strengthen your natural wielding affinity. Unless you’re secretly hiding stormwielding abilities.”
I snort. “I’d be the realm’s worst stormwielder. Cowering from a storm I summoned myself.” Zevayr breaks out into a wide grin, his first real smile since the arrow pierced my side.
It sends a rush of warmth through me.
Or is that his power?
We sit in silence, Zevayr’s fingers tracing gentle lines along the inside of my arm, occasionally checking my pulse with two fingers.
After ten minutes, I lift my tunic—the wound looks even worse.
I call to my power.
AndTides, does it respond.
My hands glow with bright, white light, brighter than I’ve ever summoned. I cover the wound with my palms, and in minutes, my body is free of infection, the skin mending itself until not even a scar remains.
Zevayr watches the wound close, then exhales a relieved sigh, sagging against me, as if the toll of the last three days is too heavy to bear for another moment. I set my palms against his neck and send a flowing rush of healing power through him as well.
“Stop. Conserve your energy,” he says, but I ignore him and keep healing, soothing every aching muscle.
I grin brightly at him, adrenaline surging through me.
I could do anything.
I could do everything.
