The firefly flits down the tunnel ahead of us, its wings making a sound not unlike crickets chirping. The smell of the soil is pungent, the walls of the tunnel curve around and above our heads. It is warm beneath the earth and I feel a drip of sweat slide down my back. Every now and then I see the green, pulsating light of a vine twisting in and out of the dirt as we make our way through the tunnel. It is the same green light as the firefly in front of us, the luminous green of the trees in the Forbidden forest, the stunning eyes of the fae and those of my best friend Clover. It is a colour I shall not forget in a hurry.

“Did Clover say how long it will take to get to the fae city?” Ezra asks.

“No, she didn’t.”

Out of the corner of my eye I see him swipe a hand over his face. We have only been walking a few minutes and he looks horrendous, the green glow making him appear sicklier still. I pull up sharp. “What is it, Ezra?”

He stops, facing me. “There are things we must discuss, but now is not the time.” He winces, unable to hide the sudden pain he feels.

“You don’t have time. You’re dying, or have you forgotten that?” I say, unable to keep the anger from my voice.

“I… argh!” he cries, stumbling back against the wall of the tunnel. The full force of his pain is back sooner than either of us expected.

“Accacia!” He bends over, his body convulsing. A scream rips from his throat. His hand fumbles inside his leather satchel, but the bag falls to the floor and I hear the distinct sound of glass smashing.

“No!” I rush forward, bending down to pick up the bag. Not thinking, I put my hand inside and feel a sharp sting as a piece of broken glass slices along my middle finger. “Shit!” I say, pulling my hand back quickly. The cut is deep and runs from the top of my finger to the base, stopping above the ring that had appeared on my hand only a few days ago. I watch as a long drip of blood falls to the ground. Ezra slides down the wall, his face ashen, deathly. It is worse this time, so much worse. I see the life draining from him right in front of my eyes.

“I don’t have much time,” Ezra says, looking up at me. “Give me the rest….” His words are lost to the hacking cough that overtakes him.

“The bottles have broken, Ezra. There is no blood left,” I say, helplessly.

He attempts to grab the bag, but he’s so weak that he falls onto his side. I drop to my knees beside him. Above the firefly is circling our heads frantically, flitting backwards and forwards in a panic.

Ezra groans on the floor, clutching at his chest. The skin on his face seems to have shrunk, the bones of his cheeks have become sharp, the shadows beneath his eyes dark. His lips are cracked and dry. Even his clothes look as though they don’t fit him properly anymore. The once fit, strong man has been reduced to skin and bone in a matter of seconds. A tear slips from his eye as he looks blindly at me. They are no longer stormy, just the grey colour of death. There is no life in them now, no anger, no pain, none of the dark looks or the heated gazes I’ve come to expect. Nothing but a fading light. A light I am desperate now to hold on to, even if he isn’t.

I stare in shock, caught for a moment in the horror of his rapid decline. It’s happening so fast. I have to do something, anything. I look at my finger, at the blood oozing from it, then back at Ezra’s face. He is mumbling incoherently, the words unintelligible, barely audible. I shut my eyes against the tears that are threatening to fall. There really is only one choice I can make. I will not lose him. He can hate me for the rest of my life, for the rest of his, but I will not watch him die.

“I’m sorry, Ezra,” I whisper, before resting my bleeding finger against his lips. For a moment he stills. His whole body is like a corpse in a morgue. Then I feel the gentle suck of his lips as they draw my blood into his mouth. A noise escapes his throat as the deathly grey of his eyes brightens. I swear I can see the storm clouds brewing in them once more, swear there is something igniting within them. I keep looking at him, aware now that silent tears are tracking down my cheeks. Ezra releases a deep moan, opening his mouth wide over my finger until it has slipped fully into his mouth. I feel his tongue swirl around it whilst he sucks and pulls on my finger. It throbs, the feeling is both painful and erotic. My gaze is drawn to his lips, how my blood has reddened them, then to the skin of his face as it brightens rapidly, colour blooming on his cheeks. I look back up at his eyes and blanche at the fire I see burning in them. I attempt to pull my hand away, but he lets out a low growl, bringing his hands up and holding it fast. He sits up, pressing his back against the wall, all the while still drawing on the blood. My finger is numb now. I feel no pain, just a dull throb in a place I never expected to feel. I have to press my lips together to stop a moan slipping from my mouth.

I watch, fascinated as Ezra’s body begins to fill out once again. The broad width of his shoulders, the strong defined muscles of his arms and legs returning as if they had never disappeared. He is as handsome as he was the first time I met him standing in my kitchen. Stunning, powerful and completely terrifying.

“Ezra, that’s enough,” I say gently. Our eyes meet, and I am caught by the hidden depths of emotion I see passing through them. I know if I were to let myself, I would fall into them and never come up for air. Ezra’s hands fall away, and I pull my hand from his mouth. It is almost completely healed. I take a steady breath.

“I had to do it. You were dying.” I wipe at the tears that still persist in falling. “I couldn’t watch you die. Please understand.” He remains staring at me, saying nothing. The silence is suffocating. Ezra raises a hand to my face and wipes at my wet cheeks.

“These tears you cry, they are for me?” he asks gently. The cadence of his voice is soft, warm, a far cry from the starkness I am used to.

“Yes.”

“Why do you cry tears for me, Accacia? I’m pretty sure I do not deserve them.” His lips lift slightly, a half-smile, uncertain.

“Because you think you do not deserve them, because you believe you deserve to suffer, because I think of Rhain and Devin and the grief they would feel if you died, because your wife Thalia and your daughter Roseanna would not have wished this for you.” He flinches at that, but his eyes remain fixed on mine. “Because I want…” I falter, unable to continue.

“Yes?” He is looking at me so intently I can barely breathe.

I swallow. “Because I want you to live, because I need you to live… For yourself, for me,” I whisper softly. It is true, just as it was with Rhain when we underwent the Claiming, so it is true with Ezra now. These men, these vampires, have settled under my skin and I cannot part with them.

“Then I will live… for you,” Ezra says. I feel the breath leave my body as he rushes to his feet, pulling me up with him. He places a chaste kiss on my lips, then pulls back.

“Ezra, I want you to know…”

“Shh, I understand.”

His reaction is not what I am expecting. I expected anger, hatred even, but understanding? No, that isn’t what I thought would happen.

“There’s no time right now for me to say all that I wish. First, we must save my brothers. We will deal with everything else later, okay?” he says.

I nod my head. “Okay.”

Ten minutes later we see a light at the end of the tunnel. The firefly flits out into the brightness, gone, its job complete. Ezra lays a hand on my arm. I stop to face him.

“Pass me the map. I can memorise the route.”

I pull it out of the deep pocket of my robe and hand it to him. He studies it, running his hand along the route, nods his head, then pockets it.

“You ready?” he asks.

“No,” I say, laughing nervously.

He steps closer to me, his hands reaching behind my head, drawing me close. He presses his lips against the spot just beneath my ear, as though he knows instinctively that this is the exact place I love being kissed the most.

“When this is over, and we are all safe, you and I will have that talk.” He steps back, pulling the hood up over my head. I can barely see out of it, so I am pretty sure no one can see my face beneath it either. I watch him pull the hood up over his head, then he holds his hand out. I take it, and we walk into the unknown together.