She was gone.
And Cassia?—
Mate,his dragon keened.Mate hurt. Go back. Go back NOW.
He wheeled in the air, wings beating frantically, and dove back toward the seawall. The shift happened mid-flight—scales retracting, wings folding, his body shrinking back to human form. He landed hard, knees buckling, and scrambled across the wet stone to where Cassia lay.
She wasn’t moving.
She wasn’t breathing.
“No.” His voice came out broken, barely human. “No, no, no?—”
Blood pooled beneath her head, dark against the gray stone. Her face was too pale, her lips going blue. He pressed his hands to her chest, searching for a heartbeat, finding nothing but stillness.
Dragon healing magic was limited. They were built for destruction, not restoration—fire and lightning and death, not the delicate work of mending broken things. But he tried. Poured every scrap of energy he had into her, his dragon lending its strength, both of them desperate.
Someone was shouting. Footsteps pounded against stone. He was vaguely aware of people approaching—Theo’s voice, Narla’s calm urgency, the crackle of healing magic gathering.
“Move.” Junie’s face appeared in his vision, tear-streaked but determined. “Aero, you have to move. The healers need space.”
“I can’t?—”
“You can. You will.” Hands gripped his shoulders—Leo’s, he realized dimly, pulling him back from Cassia’s body. “Let them work.”
He let himself be moved. Not because he wanted to—every cell in his body screamed to stay beside her, to protect her, to burn the world to ash if she didn’t wake up. But Leo’s grip was iron, and Junie was already kneeling beside Cassia, her chaos magic shifting into something focused and healing.
“Breathe,” Leo said quietly, his hand still firm on Aero’s shoulder. “Let them work. She’s strong. She’s survived worse than this.”
Had she? Aero couldn’t remember. Couldn’t think past the image of her body hitting the stone, the sound of bones cracking, the terrible stillness afterward.
Other witches joined the healing effort. Narla, her serene face finally showing cracks of fear, her owl familiar landing beside Cassia’s head like a silent guardian. Avine, tears streaming down her cheeks as she channeled energy from somewhere deep within. The pack’s healer—a wolf named Marcus, Aero remembered suddenly—pressing glowing hands to Cassia’s chest with focused intensity.
Aero stood apart, watching. His hands were covered in her blood. His dragon was making sounds he’d never heard before—keening, whimpering, a beast in agony. He couldn’t feel his legs. Couldn’t feel anything except the gaping void where his heart used to be.
Time stretched. Seconds became hours. The sun climbed higher, indifferent to the woman dying on the seawall.
Please,he thought at nothing, at everything.I’ll do anything. Take anything. Just let her live.
The healers worked in silence. He watched Junie’s brow furrow, watched Narla’s hands tremble, watched the glow of their magic pulse and fade and pulse again.
“Something’s wrong.” The wolf healer’s voice was grim. “She’s not responding. The damage is too?—”
“Don’t.” Junie’s voice cracked. “Don’t say it. Keep trying.”
“Junie—”
“I said keep trying!”
More magic. More effort. Aero watched his mate’s face, searching for any sign of life—a flutter of eyelids, a twitch of fingers, anything. She remained still. Cold. Wrong.
He was going to kill Nerissa. When this was over—when Cassia was?—
He couldn’t finish the thought. Couldn’t think the word.
The glow around Cassia’s body pulsed brighter. Junie made a sound—half sob, half laugh. “There. There, I’ve got something. She’s?—”
Cassia coughed.
