Page 125 of Wraithwound

His body responded to it almost immediately although the change was minor. Cross moaned again, this time stirring as his breathing deepened. She set her palm on his chest, the bare skin of her hand tingling as she felt for the beat that kept her grounded and tied her to her humanity with purpose.

“Cross?” Lena swept the hair off his damp brow with her free hand.

“Alina?” he breathed.

“I’m here,” she said.

Cross lifted his arm but couldn’t sustain the effort. When he tried again a moment later, it came to rest over her very own, still placed over his heart. A warm sensation spread through her chest, and her heart squeezed.

When he opened his eyes, clear blue sapphires shone there, and Lena fought the tears that threatened to gather.

“Still in there,” he whispered.

He knew then. It was one thing to remember the action, but another entirely to have guessed why she did it.

“Tell me,” he whispered.

Lena released a shaky breath and nodded, even though she knew Cross couldn’t see her. He squeezed her hand gently, his silence an invitation. And just as she’d felt in The Whispers, she realized she wanted to tell him. Even if it meant shining a light on the monster she had become and the atrocities she’d committed.

“The first time I held a still-beating heart in my hand; it was that of an enemy. But the next time . . . she— she crawled to him.” Lena’s voice broke, and she had to pause in order to compose herself. “After I— attacked him, she crawled to him and tried to protect him with her body, even though he was already dead. Turns out it’s just as easy to reach someone’s heart from behind as it is when you’re standing in front of them. I can still feel it. Her heart, clenched in my hand. I can still see them lying there on the ground.”

Cross squeezed her hand again and shut his eyes, nodding.

“Feeling your heartbeat reassures me I didn’t rip your heart from your chest like I did theirs. That I’m still a healer. Still me.”

She’d never spoken the words out loud before. Keeping one hand over hers placed atop his heart, he reached up with the other. Lena guided his hand towards her face where he gently wiped her tears with his thumb. She couldn’t help but lean into his touch.

When Cross opened his eyes again, he wore a haunted expression.

“That thing, it fed on my nightmares. I knew that’s what it was doing the moment I saw my brother,” he said, his voice hoarse from disuse.

“Your brother?” she asked.

“Cederic. He’d been scratched by a wraith the night before, likely on his way home from the pub. But we didn’t know it at the time. I walked in on him trying to get past Mirelle to get to Kiara. He died in my arms with my dagger in his heart.” Cross paused, shifting slightly on the ground beneath. “I’ll never really know who I killed that day, my brother or a wraith, because it wasn’t the first time I’d seen him get violent.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lena said. She couldn’t imagine having to kill her own brother.

Cross blinked the memories away, shaking his head. “It was a long time ago.”

Lena flipped her hand palm up on his chest and curled her fingers around his. She squeezed his hand gently as her understanding grew about the circumstances that led Cross to become a soulbound soldier.

“Can you help me up?” he asked, grunting.

“Wait—” Lena protested, but Cross was not waiting.

He turned to his side and slowly pushed himself up into a seated position. When he was leaning comfortably on the wall behind him, Lena checked his dressings and was surprised to see he was healing quickly.

“Well, you no longer look like a pin cushion,” she said.

Cross felt for her hand and planted a soft kiss on her palm. Lena flushed so brightly, she had to remind herself that he couldn’t see her before she spoke again.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“You’ve saved many lives with these hands Alina, way before you ever took them, and even after.”

Lena swallowed thickly.

“Besides, it’s the only part of you I could feel, or I might have chosen a different way to express my gratitude for saving my life. Again,” he said.