Page 4 of Midnight of Ashes
“I need you all to lay hands on her, skin-to-skin,” the caster instructed. “Your energy is the only thing that has a prayer of saving her. Picture it flowing into her.”
I stepped forward, resting my palm on her calf. Sensation ripped through me, nearly bringing me to my knees. My beast surged to the surface. He wanted free, to claim and protect. He knew his mate was in danger, and he blamed me for it.
I shoved him down, focusing on the feel of Hayden. Her skin was far too cold. It was wrong in every way.
Marcus dipped what looked like a bundle of sage into the concoction he’d created and then held it out to Cillian. “Light it with your fire.”
Cillian opened his mouth, and a swirl of flame escaped, lighting the bundle.
“Hands on Hayden,” Marcus ordered. “Focus your energy.”
I felt that tether between me and Hayden, the one I’d been trying so desperately to ignore for the last several weeks. Then I shoved everything I had into it. I’d give her the last breath in my lungs if it would help.
Marcus began chanting and sprinkling ash over Hayden’s form. The ash wasn’t the typical black, though. It was a myriad of colors, changing as it fell.
Suddenly, I felt a tug, a pull on my energy. I let it go, let Hayden take whatever she needed.
That green energy known to casters swirled around Marcus as he chanted louder. Sparks flew around Hayden and then embedded in her chest.
I watched, transfixed as the gaping hole began to heal.
The moment her flesh was knit back together, Marcus slumped against the gurney. He looked at Hayden, no relief in his expression. “All we can do now is wait. It’s up to her if she comes back to you.”
A different wave of pain hit me at that. Because I’d made Hayden want to run away. I’d made her doubt my bond mates’ feelings for her. And if she died now, it would be my fault twice over.
3
HAYDEN
I was flying. All I could feel was the wind on my face and the sensation of being totally and completely weightless. It was heaven.
I dipped, diving toward the ground, then somersaulted before charging upward toward the sky again. A laugh bubbled out of my lips as I rolled to my back, just floating mid-air.
Everything about the sensation was wonderful. I never wanted it to end, yet I could feel a tugging in my chest. Something that was urging me back toward the ground.
I frowned. I didn’t want to go down there. I wanted to stay up in the sky, where there were no problems or pain, where I felt free.
“She’s frowning. Is she in pain?” a deep voice asked.
That voice was familiar. Some part of me said, Viking. But I didn’t know what that meant.
“Physically, she’s healed. She shouldn’t be in pain.” The smooth, smoky tone read professor.
“She’s been unconscious for a week,” the Viking growled, and something smashed.
“You need to shift,” the alpha said. “Or your beast is going to do it for you.”
“I’m not leaving her.”
The pain in the Viking’s voice had me lowering myself, dropping slowly toward the ground. I wanted to see him. To comfort him.
It was as if the ground was covered by a thick fog. I had to wade through the haze to find my way toward the voice.
I tried to blink, but my eyelids felt heavy, as if they hadn’t lifted in years and had forgotten how to execute the motion. Finally, after several attempts, light flashed across my vision.
“Hayden?” A hand squeezed mine as Knox’s warm voice wrapped around me.
He pressed a hand to my cheek. “We’re right here. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
