Page 22 of Spark of the Everflame

A soft glow spilled from beneath the blood-soaked gauze at my palms. On some instinct I couldn’t understand, I hunched my body over hers to hide it.

Was this Lily’s Descended magic taking effect? It had to be—didn’t it?

“Yes,” I whispered. “Fight, Lily.Fight.”

The light beneath my hand flared blindingly bright—silver, like moonlight.

Lily’s eyes flew open.

Her chest swelled with a gasp as she jolted upright. Her lips were miraculously pink, her sapphire eyes sparkling.

We stared at each other for an enduring moment, blinking and wordless. As the world around me materialized back into view, I became acutely aware that every face in the room was turned our direction. I looked down at the injury and carefully peeled back the gauze.

My eyes went wide.

The wound was gone. Not closed—not healing.

Gone.

As if it had never happened.

I pulled off the dressing completely, but there was nothing. Not even a scratch.

Without fully knowing why, I clamped the gauze back down to hide the pristine skin.

“H-how do you feel?” I stammered.

Lily’s dumbstruck expression matched my own. “Good, I think. What... what happened?”

I shook my head, struggling to form words. “You were... bleeding. But you—you’re alright. It’s alright now.”

A crowd of Descended surged around us. Their hands scrambled for Lily, stroking her hair, her arms, cooing words of reassurance and murmuring in disbelief. I fell back, confused and lightheaded.

My gaze dropped to my scarlet-drenched hands. The wound hadbeen real. There had been so much blood—enough of it that I had known, in the pit of my soul, the metal fragment had taken out something vital, something no mortal healer could fix. Was their healing ability that strong?

The Descended’s fussing grew louder, bleating out praises to their ancestral goddess.

I stumbled to my feet, lurching backward until I slammed into a firm body. I whipped around and locked eyes with Elric.

“That was incredible,” he gushed. He looked at me in awe, as ifIhad been the one to save her. “Did you—”

“Is there somewhere I can wash up?” I rasped. My lungs struggled to pull in breath, my body overwhelmed by a tempest of warring emotions.

He recoiled at the sight of my bloody, shaking hands. “Um... yes, of course.” He led me to the hallway and pointed. “Last door on the right.”

I gave a jerky nod in thanks and staggered forward as the palace spun wildly around me. Halfway down the corridor, my knees wobbled, threatening to give. I sagged against a nearby wall and closed my eyes.

I felt weightless in the worst of ways—my stomach falling, tumbling through the air. I could still sense the phantom tingling in my palms, the silvery glow that was somehow cold and hot, ice and fire. The echoes of thevoicelingered in my thoughts, still goading at my temper.

After a few long, torturous minutes, my weight settled back into my feet. My breath steadied, my pulse no longer a thunderous gallop.

I pushed off the wall and turned for the washroom when an immense energy enveloped me in its weight. A firm hand clasped around my elbow and jerked me back, bringing me face to face with the mystery man who’d been at Lily’s side.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

For a moment, I couldn’t move. He was so much closer than he’d been before. Close enough to notice the square set of his jaw, the sweeping cliffs of his cheekbones, his nose—straight as a broadsword’s blade. Close enough to smell the cedar and leather of his woodsy musk. Close enough to see that his icy eyes, stark against his bronzed skin, weren’t just a static blue—theymoved, illuminated by a churning swirl of light and veins of shadow.

Gods, he’s beautiful.

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