Page 7 of A Surrender Of Hope

“What does it feel like?” Jesthren asks, sounding slightly more patient than before as he tries to coach me through this. I think about it for a moment and smile despite the pain I feel in every inch of my body.

“Safe… It feels safe,” I whisper and grab hold of it, gasping when the magic doubles, then triples in strength, latching onto the bright red magic and all but eradicating it before a roar of anger fills the throne room. I scream as I feel the claws release me, leaving deep bloody wounds in their place as the mirror shatters into tiny pieces. My head snaps to the side asI watch Jesthren drop the shield and swords I used earlier to the ground, his chest heaving with barely controlled breaths as his wild green eyes find mine. He broke the mirror, completely shattered it, and helped me. I blink at the Demon Prince in surprise, unsure why I see so much relief on his face as he studies me. My head spins, and I try to step toward him, but crumble to the ground as the red magic finally fully seeps from me.

“Shit!” I feel Jesthren’s warm hand catch me just as my head is about to crash into the polished floor, and I can't stop my vision from darkening.

“Jesthren?” I manage to raise my heavy limbs, hating how they feel so cold against his warm, strong body.

“Yes? Where are you hurt? Fuck, I can’t heal anything. Dammit!” I try to open my eyes; his big hand wraps around mine, and I release a strangled sob, everything crashing into me at once, overwhelming the hell out of me.

“Thanks,” I cough out, my throat constricting with the effort to speak. “For helping me.” I want to say more, tell him how grateful I am for his help, but when I try to speak, another sob sounds, and I hiccup, my body convulsing slightly as I gasp for breath. There is a brief moment of silence, then Jesthren’s hand squeezes mine.

“You’re welcome, Meyer. Now,” he commands, sounding so much like Nox it makes my chest hurt with a tinge of longing. “Follow the magic back to safety—to Lennox. He can heal you properly, alright?” Jesthren’s deep voice soothes and I feel my hair gently pushed from my brow. His words are soft and the last thing I hear as the darkness warps around me. I feel myself falling, the air whooshing past as the dark, comforting magic lessens.

“No!” I croak out, fear paralyzing me as I feel myself fall through nothingness. Panic sets in as I search for Nox, mentallyreaching for him, hot tears running down my cheeks as another sob breaks from my lips. Suddenly, the darkness melts into a blinding light, making me wince, my head throbbing as the wind settles into a frigid cold.

Shit, where am I now? I crack an eye open, hoping to find myself back at the castle, and groan when I see the snowy landscape I know so well from my dreams. I’m lying on the ground, the snow almost cradling my body as I try to sit up, hissing in pain as my body protests.

I fist the silky fabric of my dress, looking down my body, but instead of the rich burgundy fabric I had been wearing, the familiar blue is back. Oddly enough, I don’t mind the dress this time. Having something I’m used to in my dream is almost a relief. My vision darkens at the edges, the throbbing pain in my body escalating into something that has me clenching my jaw. A pained whimper escapes, and I try to take a deep breath to calm my racing heart, but it only worsens, and I close my eyes, gasping as my body starts to shake uncontrollably.

“Mi Sol.”

The soft voice of my dream man whispers through the air, and this time, I don’t try to stop the sob that wracks my body.

“Valen?”

Cursing and loud steps thunder toward me just as he falls to his knees at my side. I try to open my eyes, needing to see him, but they don’t listen. I can't stop the tears and sobs as warm, strong arms scoop me off the frozen, snowy ground and cradle me gently to a warm chest.

“I’ve got you, love. I’ve got you,” he rasps, his voice cracking as warm lips press to my forehead. “It’s time to wake up, Regina. Come back to us,” he whispers, the familiar tinge of his calm magic cording around me, soothing my nerves and tugging me further into my dream. His lips move down my cheeks, dusting kisses everywhere he can touch before they sealto my own, as the dream world splinters around us, and he guides me back to where I belong.

FOUR

Meyer

Ifeel warm hands on me as I slowly wake up, and for a moment, I panic, recalling the heavy hands on my shoulders from the man with claws. But these hands don’t come with pain, so I relax slightly, drifting in and out of sleep as my mind wants to wake, but my body needs more rest. Eventually, I open my eyes, wincing at the bright light streaming into the room. I frown, squinting as I look around, trying to figure out where I am as I hear a distant voice. The voice goes in and out like a bad radio signal, adding to my confusion.

Am I dreaming again? I don’t think I’ve ever been in this room before, but from the log walls and familiar scent of pine and winter air, I’m going to assume I’m somehow back in the Ranger barracks. I blink a few times, trying to clear the fog of sleep from my mind as someone shifts on the bed next to me. Not wanting to disturb whoever it is, I carefully look to my side and smile when I see bright white-blond hair tousled every which way on the pillow next to mine—the sight taking the last remaining edge of fear from me.

A frown mars Valen’s handsome face as he sleeps, and he has dark circles under his eyes. His brow is furrowed like he’s in themiddle of a bad dream, and I lift a hand, frowning when I see how it trembles between us. My muscles feel weak as I reach out and gently smooth his brow, wondering if there is a way to help him without waking him up. His hand, which is resting on my shoulder, the only part of him that’s touching me, shifts, and I recall how he said he has bad dreams that will often cause panic attacks.

Moving my fingers from his brow, I take the hand on my shoulder and gently shift it toward my throat, smiling softly when his fingers press against my pulse point. Valen breathes a sigh of relief, the frown softening as he rolls more toward me, his other hand coming to rest on my waist as he snuggles into my side.

Warm, strong fingers squeeze my other hand tightly, and I look to my left, seeing something I never thought I would. Lennox is sitting in a small chair, bent over the bed, resting his head on my thigh with his other hand on my hip. He’s sound asleep, and the normal grumpy expression he wears is gone, replaced with something softer, making him appear younger somehow. His black braids are a mess on top of his head, and I’m pretty sure they’re encrusted with blood. He’s wearing his black fighting leathers, and it looks like he also has dark shadows lingering under his closed eyes.

Something tugs in my chest at the sight of him, reminding me of the black magic that saved me. I tilt my head to the side, watching Nox and gently squeezing his hand back. The normal frustration I feel when I’m around him is gone, and all I want to do is yank him onto the bed with me so we can all cuddle. I shake my head and smother that idea as soon as it forms, wondering what the hell is wrong with me. I must be exhausted and delusional. Sure, Nox and I have sexual tension… and yeah, I may want to climb the man like a tree and do unspeakable things to him at times. But we do not cuddle. I frown down at histhick arms and broad shoulders… he would probably be an epic cuddler though.

Snapping my eyes closed, I groan and lean back into the pillows. I need him to wake up and glare at me, so I want to kick him in the balls again. That will make all of this weirdness go away. Life is so much simpler when I have murderous thoughts about Lennox Regalis. I open my eyes once more and look at Nox and then Valen. What the hell happened that made us all end up here?

I wrack my brain, trying to remember what happened before my crazy dreams as I look for Creed. Sure, I might still be pissed at him, but he would definitely be the better cuddle companion since Valen is asleep. Panic swirls in my chest when I don’t immediately find him, but it settles when I feel a soft tug on my hair and look up, finding Creed sitting against the headboard to my left, head slumped to the side in sleep. There is a lock of my long blonde hair clutched in his hand like he was playing with it before he fell asleep, and I smile, tugging it free as memories of what happened before slowly start filtering back to me.

The fight, the Rogue Hunters… Beastia everywhere, and the fighting outside the wall. I frown and shift my body slightly, trying to get more comfortable while not waking the guys as another memory steals my breath. The Demon on the wall with the arrow pointed at—I gasp and try to sit up as my heart skips a beat.

Razar!Where the hell is he?

I remember the pain in my back, the way my body slammed into his. His arms catching me, angry eyes staring down at me as he yelled my name… then concern? No, that can't be right. I must have hit my head or something. I look around the room, then do it again when I can’t find Razar.

Shit, shit, shit! Did the Demon get him? Was he hurt?

I strain to sit up, ready to kick Lennox awake to find out what happened, but my panicked struggle is interrupted as a figure steps out from the shadows in the far corner of the room. A long black cape billows around Razar’s feet as he steps forward, hood drawn over his eyes and a small, very angry ball of orange fur clutched in his grasp.

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