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‘I’ll let her help. We have to stop the bleeding, Grace.’ But even as I sent the words and my mate nodded, dread turned my heart to ice and dropped it to my toes as my battle training rushed to the fore.

Grace was pale, and bleeding heavily.

A belly shot.

Excruciating.

Rife with opportunity for infection.

Maximum damage. Usually fatal. Always painful in the extreme.

“Pressure. And contain any… anything that… that s-spills,” Cali stumbled on the words as she gripped the hem of her own gown and tried to tear it.

I would have reached for Grace’s… but hers was still wet. Far less able to absorb the blood, and far more likely to stop coagulation.

Cursing, I reached for the thick material that swathed Cali, gripped the hem of her silk robe between two fists, gritting my teeth, as I put everything into ripping the seam. When it gave, I tore a strip from the bottom of the long robe.

Cali’s eyes widened, but she nodded and quickly gathered the spools of fabric as I tore them free.

“We need to wrap her. I’ll have to bare her. The pressure will hurt, but it’s necessary—you need to hold her arms so she doesn’t move too much. Any jerking or—”

“I know,” I snarled, wrapping Grace in my arms, holding her as tightly as I dared.

Grace hugged her lower stomach. I moved to kneel behind her, keeping her in the squatting position, but taking her weight, whispering to her to stay still, to let me hold her.

“You’ll have to keep her hands—” Cali started.

“I will,” I snapped. “Just do it.” Then I took each of Grace’s hands and pulled them up so our gripped fists were curled at her chest, and my arms held her in place.

‘Grace, it will hurt, but we’re helping. Try not to move your legs. Keep them bent—but let me take your weight. I won’t let you fall—’

‘It hurts—Voski… I feel cold.’

Oh, dear God. “Do it,” I hissed at Cali. “Quickly.”

Cali nodded quickly, then flipped Grace’s robe up. I kept my mate curled forward to stop those muscles extending, held her so tightly, and did my best to distract her.

‘Love,’ I whispered in her mind as she twitched and jerked, sobbing against the pain while Cali reached around her to position the makeshift bandage. ‘We’ve had the weapon the whole time, Grace. Do you understand? They can’t touch us with that sick magik anymore. Not when we love so much we aren’t afraid.’

‘Wh-what?’

‘Kham was right. I should have listened. Perfect love drives out fear. And they feed on fear. Their power is fueled by fear. When our love outstrips fear, it removes their power. They can’t harm us—not with the power. Not as long as we cling to each other, and the dragons, and the Creator. Selfless love is a shield against it. Grace… I love you. Breathe, beautiful. Just breathe. I’ve got you. We’ll figure this out.’

‘I love you too… but Voski… I’m afraid. I feel… something is wrong. I can’t…’

The sound of her sob broke something in my heart and I clung to her even more tightly, burying my face in her neck, whispering comfort and reassurance, reminding her that we would win. Pleading with her not to leave me, and insisting that the dragons would help.

‘…I love you, Grace. I love you so much. Love me… love me back.’

She shivered in my arms. ‘I do.’

Cali urged me to lay her down. Reluctantly, I positioned her on the ground, curled up in the fetal position, while Cali examined the makeshift bandage, and shook her head. “It won’t stop,” she whispered fearfully. She’d tied off the bandage, but her hands were bloodied as she examined Grace’s fingers and looked at her eyes, her forehead pinched into lines as she shook her head. “It’s too deep. Too much. She’s already bleeding through… Vane, we need—”

I opened my mouth to snarl at her to stop speaking curses of failure over my mate, when a voice cut across us both.

“You don’t need her. Not now. You have it, Vane. You can do anything.”

To my right, in the corner of my vision, my mother struggled to her feet, hunched and shaking.