Page 39 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

My memories of the night slam into me like a sledgehammer. It wasn’t just a nightmare; it was real.

Jarek, screaming as the wisps dug deep within him to claw out the poison.

Me, shrieking at Oredai with tears in my eyes, demanding to know what they were doing.

The Cindrae leader, with that smug fucking smile of his, insisting Jarek would die without their aid.

Zorya and Loth, held down by the guards so they couldn’t slaughter the wisps.

Me, gripping Jarek’s hand in mine and thinking he might crush my bones while I sobbed, overwrought with helplessness.

I’m positive this night will haunt me for years to come.

But my affinities are replenished, vibrating like electric currents beneath my skin, taunting me to reach for them, to wield them. They’re no longer a discomfort. Now, they’re a safety blanket.

Gesine once promised me they would return stronger each time I depleted them, and the well would deepen. How deep does it go now? Could it be enough to break through Mordain’s wards?

To defeat the fates?

It is certainly enough to finish healing Jarek.

I pluck strands of Aoife’s threads and settle my palm on the fresh silver wound across his taut abdomen. Closing my eyes, I send them forward to take away any remaining discomfort. My ears catch a sharp inhale, but I focus on my task, letting the threads search for infection, for injury.

A warm hand pressed on top of mine breaks my concentration and cracks my eyelids.

“There’s no need,” he croaks, his voice even raspier than usual. “I’m fine.”

“You said that yesterday and look what happened,” I scold softly. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He licks his lips. “If I die of anything, it will be from thirst.”

I pull away to fill a copper mug with water from a jug waiting on the side table. “Here. Slowly.” I hold it against his lips and keep it there, watching his Adam’s apple bob with a few swallows before I take it away.

“You held my hand through it all,” he says after a moment, his jaw tensing. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” I lie as I flex it. It’s stiff but otherwise fine.

“All I can say is do not ask those little demons to bring you relief.”

He’s not wrong. Their method is horrendous. And yet … “They healed you when I couldn’t. You would have died last night, Jarek. I don’t know what I would have done if …” I can’t finish the thought, the lump in my throat too painful.

His chest heaves with a sigh, and his gray eyes roam my face. I used to think them so hard and cold, but now all I see is wisdom and concern.

The corners of his mouth kick upward.

“What?”

Long, dark lashes flutter. “You should see yourself.”

I wrinkle my nose. “That bad, huh?” Neither of us have bathed. Corrin will insist on burning these sheets.

“I’ve fought hags more appealing than you.”

“Shut up.” I laugh as I smack his chest, earning his chuckle. “What time do you think it is, anyway?”

His gaze flickers to the dim light beyond the windows. “Early dawn.”

“What? No.” I scamper across the vacuous room, to the balcony, and see the sun rising, not setting. “What the hell? They let me sleep all night? Why wouldn’t Zander wake me?” Unless …

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