“We’ll do it as quickly as possible,” he said, as if he could hear her heart slamming against her ribs. “Scream if you need to. I’ve put a windshield around the room.” He bit into his wrist, breaking the skin, then lifted it to her face. Tiny rivulets of blood trickled down the corded muscles of his forearm. “Grab hold. As soon as the fire touches your skin, I want you to suck and suckhard. Don’t worry about me. Take as much as you need until the pain subsides.”
She was beyond words, her emotions a confusing mix of terror and exhilaration. This was really happening. She and Cael were about to befree.She tried to focus on that rather than the impending pain.
She positioned his wrist at her mouth and licked up a drop of his blood. The taste—pure Cael, all rain-drenched mountains and greenery—calmed her.
“Ready?” Cael’s thumb was poised on the lid of the crucible by her neck. Heat wafted through the thick material.
She sucked in a deep breath. “Do it.”
Cael didn’t hesitate. Flicked the lid off and pressed the opening against her scar.
The pain was unlike anything Xenia had ever felt. Like an angry god had driven a hot spike through her neck.
She dug her nails into Cael’s forearm, holding on for dear life as a gut-wrenching scream tore past her teeth. Cael held her in place, his thighs bracketing her knees as she thrashed. Her instincts were roaring at her to flee, to buck him off, to make it stop.
Her skin wasmelting. She could smell it—a charred-flesh scent that was almost worse than the pain itself.
This was no ordinary fire. It was so white-hot it was cold. She shivered as a feverish sweat burst across her body, beads running into her eyes.
“Hurts.” Her words were garbled screams. “Fuckinghurts!”
Cael whispered something soothing, but she couldn’t hear him over the blood pounding through her ears. He pressed his wrist to her mouth again, encouraging her to drink. She could barely concentrate enough to seal her mouth over the cut.
Small zaps prickled her neck—the device sputtering out its final gasps.
She pushed through, sucking down a mouthful of Cael’s blood. No instant relief, but the pain’s sharper edges dulled.
“Almost there,” Cael whispered. “Just a few more seconds.”
A pop sounded and she was certain her jugular had ruptured. She nearly passed out from a fresh wave of agony.
“Got it!” Cael’s victorious shout cut through her haze, and she heard a soft ping. “Keep drinking.”
She did as he commanded, though it was hard to swallow. She pushed his wrist away, then cracked her eyes open. Cael picked up the tracking device from the table, hissing as it burned his fingers. He dropped it at his feet, then stomped on it once, twice, three times for good measure.
He stared down at the charred remains, chest heaving, then looked to Xenia. Wonder flared through his storm-cloud eyes as he crashed to his knees and peered at her wound. “You may be the first human in the history of Ethyrios to survive being burned by dragon-fire.”
She huffed out a weak laugh. “How does it look?”
He grimaced. “Bad.”
“Great bedside manner, pterodactyl.”
He gripped her hand and interlaced their fingers. “But it could be worse. You’realive. You did it.” He peppered gentle kisses across her knuckles. “You’re so fucking strong.”
He strode to the bed, then fastened the cuff to his wrist and slung his bag over his shoulder.
He gingerly scooped her from the chair. She whimpered as a fresh bolt of pain shot through her neck. “It’s okay,” he whispered into her hair, cradling her against his chest. “You’ll be okay.”
And despite the hurt, despite the exhaustion, despiteeverything, she believed him.
Theywouldbe okay. Both of them.
It was the last thought in her head before Cael tapped the cuff and they portaled out of Stoneridge.
Together.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
