She pushed her magic into him.
It went willingly, and the moment her magic touched his, she inhaled an audible gasp.
“Solveig,” Westley moaned softly like he couldn’t keep it in, saying her name as though it belonged to him. The sound tightened her core.
Noren coughed.
“I can feel yours is loosened. The shadows are thinner,” Solveig muttered, barely recovered from the reaction of their magic connecting. “It has room to move and a little has escaped—that’s why you can feel it,” she said, her eyes still closed.
Their magic danced together as the binds on Westley’s magic relaxed further, giving way to more power. He sucked in a breath.
Reluctantly, Solveig withdrew her magic from the prince. It was difficult because she did not want to lose that feeling of ... familiarity. But she needed all her power directed at Conalle.
“Now that I know what it feels like, I can try to loosen yours, Connie.”
She made to remove her hand from the prince, but he gripped it, holding her firmly in place. The thudding of his heart accelerated, as did the rise and fall of his chest.
Solveig let Westley ground her and pushed all her available power into Conalle, steering it to the dark tethers that tightly bound his magic. Her power built and built.
Sweat broke out on her brow at the exertion. Her magic refused to do as she wished, desperately trying to find its way back to Westley. Her body slumped, and she would have broken the connection if not for the prince’s other hand coming to steady her, gripping her waist and pulling her against his chest.
“I can’t—” she started.
“You can, General,” he whispered, his breath flitting over the shell of her ear.
Solveig tightened her hold on her magic and forced it to obey her bidding, but with the strain of her fight against the prince earlier, her stores were depleted.
“I need—”
Again, she didn’t have to finish before a thread of magic that was not her own found its way into her, propping her up like the male it came from was doing for her body.
“Take what you need,” Westley offered, his voice strong.
She did. She tugged at his magic and it followed hers willingly. The light inside her flared with strength, and when he receded from her, she noted the loss. But she focused on the task at hand. With one last surge, she shoved everything at the binds holding Conalle’s magic hostage and imagined shredding through every last tendril.
With a flash of light, Conalle was blasted back as the earth began to quake, rumbling with untethered power.
Solveigcollapsedintohisarms, her magic drained. He held her tightly as the earthquake ebbed and then grew, throwing them both to the ground.
Westley made sure his body took the brunt of the fall, twisting at the last minute. Her weight was not unpleasant on top of him. She was breathing heavily, her movements weak.
“Are you okay?” Westley whispered.
She nodded. “I think so.”
“I can feel it,” Conalle whispered, staring at his hands, his eyes beginning to water. He looked up at Solveig in awe. “I can feel it,” he said again.
“Did I break through all the binds?” Solveig asked weakly.
Conalle took a moment before slowly shaking his head. Solveig slumped into Westley’s chest in defeat, but Conalle didn’t look the least bit disappointed.
He put his hands on the earth and closed his eyes. The quake triggered by the release of Conalle’s earth magic had been so strong, rocks had broken off and splashed in the water. A small fissure opened beside the pool, a yawning rift changing the landscape of the waterfall.
Westley met Solveig’s eyes and could tell they were thinking the same thing.
“Do you think ... ?” she started, the same time he said, “What if ...”
Noren looked between them as Westley helped Solveig to her feet, holding her a little longer than necessary as she steadied herself. His hand engulfed her elbow until he had no more excuse to touch her. He broke their connection, and the loss of it was an immediate regret. He took a step back so he didn’t do anything stupid.
