But Kailorien paid him no heed. He leaned back down, whispering to his beloved. Searching for the Bond. Waiting…
Just waiting…
Hours passed this way.
Zarrek stood sentinel at the door. Lu’ma perched at the edge of the bed, brushing Auryn’s arm, lips moving in soundless prayers. Kailorien never left her side. His forehead rested against hers, whispering promises into the silence.
“I’ll hold you. I’ll keep holding you until you wake. Even if it’s the last thing I do.”
Dawn seeped through the Mirror Shafts. Pale light spilled across her pallid skin. Kailorien bent lower, lips brushing her temple.
The runes along his arms still pulsed, angry and red. Vargrún beating against its cage.
…Ember mine…together…no chain could bind us…
Kailorien clenched his jaw, forcing the beast down into the prison of his ribs. Again and again.
Near dawn, she stirred at last. Kailorien’s head snapped up, grip tightening on her hand.
“…Kail.”
Relief shattered through him. “I’m here. Starlight, I’m here.”
Her eyes opened, hollow but seeing him. She tried to lift her hand, and he guided it until trembling fingers brushed his cheek.
“Vargrún,” she whispered. “I’m dreaming again.”
“No, little one.” His voice broke. “It’s me.”
"Your eyes…"
"It'sme."
"Kail…my neck…it hurts.”
“I know.” His hand cupped her face. “Rest. You’re safe now.”
Her hand faltered toward her neck, fingers grazing the scar. She winced. The truth of it struck her. She would carry it forever. Kailorien caught her wrist and pressed her hand against his chest.
“It didn’t take you,” he rasped. “You’re still here. Still with me.”
A tear welled. He kissed it away.
…See how small she is…let her fall into us…we will keep her better than flesh ever could…
The voice coiled through him. Auryn saw. Even through the haze. Her hand returned to his cheek, brushing the emerald teardrop at his ear.
“Kail… don’t let it take you. Not for me.”
He gathered her close, arms barring the beast from them both.
“I won’t,” he swore.
The crimson dimmed. Vargrún receded.For now.
When he looked at her again—skin streaked in soot and silver, clothes in tatters—he saw not a sovereign star, but the wreckage of one. A low sound rumbled in his chest. Pained. Torn.
Behind him, Lu’ma signed, 'Let This Nameless help—Her Radiance will fall ill—'
