I remember Callum placing my hand on his chest once. His heart beat so slowly that I understood how Fae live for centuries. But Wilder’s heart isn’t beating like Callum’s. His is like mine but faster. A century on Alyssium was bound to subject him to the Beating, but I never considered it would linger when I resurrected him.
Pressing my palm to Wilder’s chest, I listen to every thump. Not the slow, steady pace of an immortal. Something quicker.
Something human.
Wilder plants his hand on a post behind me, catching himself, and it brings us so close that all I hear is that thundering truth.
His heart is beating too fast. He’s too mortal, his magic is drained, and he’s bleeding from too many different wounds. If Wilder doesn’t get out of here, he’s going to die.
Chapter 29
Elorie
I gripthe front of Wilder’s shirt, staring into his darkening eyes. “You’re going to die.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” His joke falls flat when he has no energy behind it.
My jaw tightens. “You are not going to die for me again.”
“Worried you’ll die too, Elorie?” He brushes a hair from my cheek. “Maybe I was lying when I said that we were tied.”
“Were you?”
His breathing deepens, but he doesn’t answer as he fights to catch his breath.
“You’re suffering from the Beating.” I ball my fingers in his shirt, still pressing my hand to his heart.
“The prison does that.” Wilder swallows hard, looking down where my hands rest on him.
“But I brought you back. I thought—or I guess I assumed—that would remake you into what you were—an immortal. Are you mortal now?”
“When the gods give me a hint, I’ll let you know. The Beatingis not like it was when I was in the prison. It’s like I’m somewhere—” He coughs as pain lances his expression.
“Somewhere in between,” I whisper.
There’s a reason tampering with the dead is forbidden magic. It doesn’t follow the same rules as everything else. There are consequences when playing with fate.
Wilder is here, but he’s suspended. Somewhere in between.
“It doesn’t matter. No Fae is truly immortal.” His inhale is sharp through his teeth as pain sears through him.
Around us, the battle still rages, but it’s quieting now, getting more distant. His last surge of magic staved them off. It was just enough for the guards to reinforce the perimeter, keeping them back.
“You aren’t healing.” I press my hand to Wilder’s side, and blood seeps between my fingers.
“I just need a moment.”
A moment sounds too long to wait with how dim his eyes are. With how far away he seems.
When Hazel drained my magic, it took tonics and an entire night to regain my strength. And that was without wounds like his. Without help, he won’t survive.
Gods, I can’t stand that thought. Not because he very well might take me with him. But because I can’t lose him for any reason.
Wilder leans over me, his forearm propped against the post, bringing us nearly nose to nose when I look up. I search for the gold in his darkening eyes. The flecks of his magic still flickering.
My fingers cling to his shirt like that can stop him from slipping away. It can’t. It won’t. And that makes everything nearly unbearable.
Why can’t I stand the thought of losing him? Soon enough, he’ll perish with his kingdom. But right now, with my hands pressed to his chest, I can’t bear to think it.
