Page 66 of Shadows in Bloom

She did not give warning when she jumped toward Alandris and me, a hidden knife thrown in his direction, and she focusedher attention on me. I parried her blow with no time to spare, hardening my magic into a slender, shadow-wreathed blade. It would awaken Zaelos, but I had no other choice. I would never win against her training in plain hand to hand combat. I needed my magic.

I spared a quick glance toward Alandris to ensure he’d dodged the flying knife. A mistake. In my distraction, Kallistra sliced at me once more, grazing my arm. I jumped back, not daring to take my eyes off of her again. I needed to keep my distance. She was far too quick and nimble. If I remained at the forefront of her attacks, I would be stuck on the defensive until she eventually wore me down. Outlasting her stamina would be impossible.

Four rapid bursts of fire tore through the air toward Kallistra as she attempted to close the distance between us. The first three missed their mark as she swerved out of their range. The fourth caught her directly in her left leg. A strained scream tore from her throat as she collapsed to her knees from the impact. The fabric of her leathers had fully burned away, exposing bright bloody red skin blistering from the heat.

“Fuck. Fuck!” she shouted, forcing herself to her feet.

Before she could recover, another bolt of fire struck her, this time in the arm. More screaming, and blood, so much blood.

I moved toward her, and heard Alandris yell from behind me, “Nairu! Don’t!”

It was meant to be me. Kallistra was the connection to my past—I was meant to be the one to sever it. I stoodbefore her, broken and bloodied, barely standing, and raised my hand in front of her. Shadows swirled around my fingers, reaching out, waiting for the command to devour. If Zaelos was lingering, he made no comment on my actions. I was about to murder someone… without his influence. It would be my burden, and mine alone.

I hesitated, hoping, begging, that Kallistra would see the impossibility of her victory and surrender, but she never moved. “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

She laughed, wincing from the movement. “So am I. I should have taught you better.”

Sharp, piercing agony erupted from my side quicker than I could fathom what had happened. I staggered backward, looking down at the source of the pain, and found a dagger hilt deep in my flesh. It was burning like acid, spreading outward from the wound. Melting me away from the inside out.

The next moments passed in a blur. I was there, falling to the ground, in what felt like slow motion, when I felt a wave of heat across my body. Smelled the sickening scent of boiling skin and hair. Heard a scream so shrill I thought my ears would burst from the pressure.

I forced myself to focus. What remained of Kallistra was in a charred heap, mere feet in front of me. Bile rose in my throat and I swallowed it down as I crawled backward, each movement sending a fresh jolt of pain up my side. I didn’t have the will to look at the wound again, to see how bad the bleeding was. I knew without looking… felt it in the irregularity of my heartrate, in the creeping sensation that crawled over my skin, in the way my breath caught in my throat, not quite satisfying my need for air. The wound’s severity didn’t matter; the dagger had been laced with poison.

Arms wrapped around me, carefully pulling me into the warmth of a body.Alandris. Oh, Alandris. I am sorry. I am so, so sorry.

Chapter 35

“You are not dying.” Alandris clenched his teeth so hard I thought they’d crack. “Don’t you dare look at me like you want to say goodbye, because I am not letting you die.”

“Please,” I murmured.

I watched the fragile hold on his composure shatter as he looked down into my eyes, seeing the resignation there. In his own were a swirl of emotion—grief, rage, desperation—and above all—regret. He would never forgive himself for letting me fight, and I would never convince him it would have altered nothing. I still would have hesitated, would have jumped between them, would have made one final effort to change Kallistra’s mind. It was who I was. The one thing I had that allowed me to wrestle hold of my own body was the same thing that damned me. Humanity. Goodness.

Alandris’ hands hovered above my wound, and I felt the warmth of magic dancing across my skin. It wouldn’t be enough. He didn’t specialize in healing and the poison was too far along, faster acting since it’d been administered through a wound rather than ingested. Even a highly trained healer would struggle to repair such damage. I knew that, and I was sure Alandris did, too. It wasn’t logic that drove him to keep trying in spite of this.

“Please,” I repeated, laying my hand over his. There was too much I wanted to say, and too little time left to say it. My heart was slowing, my vision growing hazier with each passing moment. I was running out of time, and I didn’t want to use up the time I had left struggling against what was bound to happen.

He stilled, looking down at me with trembling lips and bloodshot eyes. “I-I can’t.” The tears he’d been keeping at bay fell at once. “I have to save you. If I can stabilize you, then I can get you to a real healer… Do not ask me not to try.”

I curled my fingers around his shaking hand. “The blade was poisoned… There is no time.”

He bent down and pressed his forehead to mine, a sob wracking his body.

“I will come back… I promise.” I brought my hand to his cheek. “Whatever it takes, I will find you again. I will remember you. I swear it.”

Alandris nodded and leaned into my touch.

“I don’t know if I will be the same as I am now, but will… will you wait for me?”

It was a selfish ask. I didn’t know enough about the process of rebirth to guarantee that I would be anything like the woman he loved now. I didn’t know how long it would take to find him again—if I would even live long enough to find him. How many times had I lived and died before this life? How long would he be required to wait with no other guidance except blind faith? It was selfish, senseless, and yet I felt it somewhere deep in my soul—he was worth fighting for, worth living and dying for, worth begging to… wait. In all of my lives, I had never felt love like his. If fate was real, he was it—he was mine.

Alandris pulled away to look into my eyes, his grief mixed with something different—determination. “I will love every iteration of you, Nairu. It is your soul I am in love with. Death is not enough to pry me away from you. So, yes, I will wait for you.” He held my face in his hands with a delicate firmness. His voice strengthened with confidence. “I do not care if the forests burn to ash, if the oceans dry, or the moon falls from the sky. This world be damned. I will wait for you through it all.”

I used the last of my energy to unfasten the dagger from my hip. His first gift to me. I’d never used it on anyone or anything in all of our time together. I had meant it when I said I would only use it as a final, desperate attempt to cling to life. Perhaps I should have used it on Kallistra, but no, that wouldn’t have been right either. This was the end of my life, but not the endof my story, and the dagger was too precious a gift to stain with the blood of someone I’d not truly wanted to kill.

I held the hilt out to him. “Will you protect this for me?”

“It will be waiting for you.” He grabbed the dagger and slid it into his belt. “We will both be waiting for you.”

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