Evalle clawed at the air.
Agony flooded her body for what seemed an eternity. She didn’t understand why dying took so long. She gave up fighting and ... the pain eased until she could breathe.
In fact, it disappeared completely.
That could only mean one thing. She was truly dead.
Where was Storm?
She wanted one last kiss, just a chance to say goodbye. Just ... more time with him, but she floated in a sea of murky darkness. Black would be a color next to this. She had no sense of having a body.
Time stretched into no time. No place. Nothing.
Where was her mother’s spirit now? Wouldn’t she at least be around to welcome Evalle into the afterlife?
Go back, Evalle, her mother said from far away. Do not follow me. Her mother’s voice faded to nothing at the end.
I don’t think I get a choice, Evalle answered and floated some more.
The next voice in her mind was male and whispered, Evalle?
Her eyelids fluttered enough for her to see a tiny light flickering far away.
Could that be Storm trying to reach her? Was his spirit guide bringing Evalle into that private realm so she could see her mate one more time?
Her fingers touched nothing. Did she even have hands? Maybe she was too far gone into the next world for him to connect with her. See? She’d been right to be glad she hadn’t completed the bonding with Storm or ... he might have died, too. He’d said they would be linked forever.
Her thoughts faded ...
Evalle, listen to me, dammit!
The words dragged her back from where she’d drifted off.
But ... that was not Storm’s voice. In fact, it sounded like Tristan.
Why would he be able to talk to her and not Storm?
Dammit, Evalle, where are you?
I’m right here, she replied in her mind. How can you talk to me when Storm can’t? Wait, did you die, too? Oh, Tristan, I’m sorry.
He made an odd sound. Was he laughing? The bastard. What’s funny about dying, asshole?
Tristan said, Nothing. It hurts like the devil, but you have to come back to us.
I can’t.
Don’t quit now, Tristan ordered her. Remember how Tzader only survived because of you dying with him in Treoir Castle? He trusted you when you forced a link open between the two of you, then you brought him back to life with you the third time you died?
Tristan paused and said in a quiet voice, I’m not Tzader, but you can trust me. I grabbed your hand as we blasted out of the realm and I’m not letting go.
Now she could feel his fingers squeezing hers.
Her heart made a faint thump. Then it thumped again.
Was this happening? She said, Tristan, I trust you. I have for a long time. I feel your energy. Hope jumped all over the place in her heart, but the organ wasn’t really doing its part yet.
His fingers squeezed hers again. He said, Get ready, because you’re only feeling the leading edge of my regeneration, and the rest is gonna seriously suck.
More energy seeped into her.
She opened her mouth to draw in a breath, but a wave of power poured into her body, stealing that breath. Power surged so fast and hard it felt as if she’d been stabbed with a handful of lightning bolts. She arched and yelled in her head, because she had no breath or voice, no way to stop the searing pain coursing through her.
She lost touch with parts of her body.
Worse than that, she couldn’t feel Tristan’s hand any more.
But ... she could hear him yelling, “It’s not working! I lost the connection!”
She wanted to tell him not to feel bad, that he’d tried, but she couldn’t talk. Her body spun wildly like being sucked into the vortex of a physical tornado.
In her mind, she called out, Storm! I love you.
Strong hands yanked her into a hard embrace. Then she heard it, the one sound she longed for ... Storm’s voice.
He was chanting a swift rush of words in his native language. When he paused, he whispered gut-wrenching words of love and need that flowed through her mind, blending with the chaotic power surge.
More chanting, plus now she could hear Adrianna’s voice. And maybe Garwyli’s, too.
The spiraling energy her body had turned into began to slow down.
Storm begged in a hoarse voice, “Please come back, sweetheart. I can’t lose you.”
The furious energy finally dissipated and her body calmed. Every muscle felt limp as cooked noodles. She inhaled and ... smelled her mate.
Her eyes fluttered open, but speaking was difficult. She squeezed out, “Storm?”
He stilled and asked in an incredulous voice, “Evalle?”
Talking was beyond her so she smiled.
Loud cheering erupted. Storm clamped her body to his trembling one. “Thank you for not leaving me.”
Licking her lips, she croaked, “Never.”
Content that he was nearby, she let go and drifted asleep.
Time moved in slow waves that occasionally woke her. She couldn’t force her eyes to open or her mind to reach for full consciousness, but she recalled the sensation of being held as she teleported again. Then she fell deep asleep.
When she finally roused, she moved to stretch. Huh. Her arms worked.
Warm fingers brushed over her face.
She might not be a Skinwalker, but she knew the scent of her man.
Wait. Her brain fog continued to clear.
She was alive?
Evalle opened her eyes and squinted against the blurry image. Please, no more nightmares of losing Storm.
When the world came into focus, she saw the face of the man she would cross a river of fire for if that was the cost of just one more minute with him.
His beautiful teak-brown body was stretched out beside her, with his head propped up by his bent arm. Straight black hair fell loose over powerful shoulders. Those brown eyes kept sweeping across her face as if he didn’t believe she was there.
His smile didn’t quite reach his gaze, telling her how difficult this had been for him. “Hi, sweetheart.”
She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Moving around, Storm came back with a glass of water he held to her lips while lifting her up to drink. When he put the glass away, he came back to kiss her. Not one of his let’s-get-naked kisses, but a sweet, I-need-you-more-than-life kiss.
She smiled against his lips. “I missed you, too.”
He doubled down on the next kiss, growling with pleasure.
When he lifted up, he said, “I missed you more.” Drawing in a long breath, he said, “There was no way I would have left you there, but much as it pains me to admit this, you wouldn’t be alive right now without Tristan.”
So she hadn’t hallucinated all of that. “Is he okay?”
“Yes.”
“He linked with me, didn’t he?”
“That’s what Tzader said happened.”
She considered that and asked, “Why would Tzader explain? Why didn’t Tristan tell you?”
“Tristan thought he’d lost you while he regenerated, that he’d done something wrong. As soon as it was clear that you did survive, he just teleported away. Daegan went after him, then came back and said Tristan needed some time.”
“We have to thank him,” she said, hoping this mended the rift that had driven friction between Tristan and Storm for a long time.
“No, I’m the one who has to thank him, which I will figure out how to do as soon as he surfaces again. I owe him anything he asks for at this point.”
Her smile turned into a grin.
Storm finally smiled for real. “What?”
“Tristan will probably never let you pay that debt. He’ll love having it to hold over you forever.”
Rolling his beautiful brown eyes, Storm muttered, “Probably true. I’ll still thank the jerk.”
Her gaze tripped past Storm to take in the room. She appreciated the soft lighting. Their building in Atlanta was incredible, but it did not have thirty-foot ceilings with gold-framed paintings that looked as if someone had paid the equivalent of buying a house for each one. Nor were their walls at home shiny marble. Leaning a little, she took in the massive bed that appeared to be three feet off the polished stone floor.
Pulling her gaze back to him, she asked, “Where are we?”
“In a private suite in Treoir Castle.”
Her eyes widened. “No kidding?”
“It’s the truth. Daegan teleported us to the grounds outside the castle where we all tackled saving you. Once it was clear you were going to make it, he ordered you brought inside and kept here where he said your energy would rebuild faster. The minute we showed up and Brina found out what had happened to you, she started spouting orders. She had everyone in this place jumping, including Daegan.”
“No.”
“Yes.” Storm pecked a kiss on her forehead and kept toying with her hair. “She used her powers to clean and clothe you, then she ordered Garwyli to continue healing you ... ”
Evalle reached up to touch her face. Her fingers ran over a scar that ran across her neck. She cringed at realizing how she must look.
Storm clasped her hand and his voice turned serious. “Don’t.”
“I’m hideous.”
His eyes darkened above a fierce frown. “You are gorgeous. That old druid healed about eighty percent of the wounds and scars. He’s letting you rest and waiting to see if your beast can heal the rest, but I want you to hear me. I. Love. You. I don’t give a damn if you still had all the scars you had in Abandinu’s realm.” Storm watched her as what he said sank in. Then he growled and added, “You’re not going to be happy until the scars are gone, are you?”
“No. I’m not particularly vain, but I don’t want to look at a reminder of that place for the rest of my life if I have a choice.”
He nodded with understanding.
That was her man. He understood.
She did an internal check to see if she could even feel her beast. Her insides had never been this quiet. No energy swirled. “Storm ... I can’t feel my gryphon.”
Squeezing her hand, he said, “Your body has been through so much trauma in the past days, then you died and came back to life. Give yourself a chance to heal. Don’t try to do too much yet. Can you do that for me?”
“Sure.” She would not admit the idea of losing touch with her gryphon upset her far more than the scars. But Storm had been through a lot in recent days as well.
His heart needed a break from so much stress and misery.
Hers did, too.
She would be thankful for being alive and with Storm. If she couldn’t heal her scars, so be it. She would learn to live with the way she looked and put that realm behind her.
If she never shifted into a gryphon again ... she’d figure that out as well.
Right now, it hurt too much to consider.