Grinding my teeth, I leapt into the air and plummeted toward the garden
below. I crumpled and rolled as I hit the ground, but my right shin shattered.
Still, I roared and staggered to my feet, my bones already healing.
Find Savy.
I limped toward the caves, then slowed. The basilisk lay in the middle of
the garden. I approached cautiously. Its chest rose and fell, but it made no
movement in my direction.
It was sleeping, a victim of the noctith’s poisoned
breath. But for how long?
I sprinted toward the caves. She had to be here. She’d been controlling
the shadows that had hidden and probably bewildered the basilisk. It had
stumbled through the darkness, toward the loudest source of sound: the
demon.
Gods, that woman was smart.
Her signature flooded my senses, and protectiveness coursed through my
veins. “Savannah!”
“Here…” came a feeble response.
I ducked into the northern cave.
She was lying at the edge of the pool, soaking hair draped around her.
Her skin had been shredded by hundreds of cuts, though they were already
healing. I dropped to my knees and wrapped her in my arms. She was limp
and cold. I pushed my magic into her, a torrent of healing fire.
She gasped and sat bolt upright in my arms. Her shoulder popped back
into its socket, and the remaining cuts in her skin stitched closed, leaving
white scars scattered like stars.
I gritted my teeth as I gave her everything I had, pouring my strength and
life into her. She trembled in my embrace and arched her back as her mouth
opened in a silent moan of delight.
I’d heard that the healing gift between mates was intimate, but I’d never
seen it done. Not like this. It was the transfer of life. Of vitality.