She was going to die.

Move. Move. Move!

But her limbs felt full of lead, even as her senses began to work properly again. She could shift her toes, wiggle her knee, but she wasn’t swift enough. The jaws came down, and the air filled with a deafening crunch as Enid closed her eyes.

Moments passed, her breath echoing in her ears like a roar. No pain pierced her, no agony spread through her like she’d expected.

Something dripped on her face.

Wiping it off, she opened her eyes.

Avenay was over her, face staring at Enid, brow furrowed in pain, blood dripping from her mouth as she groaned, caught in the jaws of the beast, her body crushed and contorted.

A specific pain wrapped around Enid’s head like a band, the same one she’d felt the day her parents died. Her chest felt hollow, her lungs forgot how to breathe, and numbness spread through every part of her. Darkness plumed around her, shadows spilling from her hands, arms, legs, feet, as they leapt up to reach Avenay while she stumbled to her feet. Enid lunged and swung her blade with the power and fury of a dying star.

Avenay fell from its mouth, and Enid rushed to catch her. The beast cried out as black blood sprayed all over her. It turned, roaring, ready to come at her again. But Vasu’s spell finished and the air split in two, the great darkness returning and sucking the beast in. She felt the force of that pull, but it only targeted the beast. Then it snapped back together as if it had never been apart.

Enid looked down at Avenay. She was in so much pain, her wing broken, blood staining her clothes.

The seraph moaned, her hand reaching up and touching Enid’s face, warm blood smearing her cheek and turning cold against the chill.

“You’re… safe,” Avenay croaked, smiling faintly.

Enid looked up at Vasu. “Vasu! Heal her!”

Vasu trotted over, falling to his knees as he examined Avenay. Avenay’s hands clung weakly to Enid’s clothes, those amber eyes ever on her.

“Enid, I need you to promise me something,” Avenay said, each word a struggle.

“Don’t talk, save your strength until Vasu heals you.” She grasped Avenay’s face, pressing their foreheads together.

“I need you to get the cure to my sister if it’s real, please?”

“You can do it. You’ll be healed soon.”

“No,” Avenay replied, a weak laugh escaping her. “No, I’m dying. I’ll be dead soon. Enid, please promise me.”

“You’re not dying.”

Avenay’s hand came up to Enid’s cheek again. “Please, Enid?”

Enid looked at Vasu, desperate words resting on her lips, ready to unload in curses and prayers, begging and threats, until he met her gaze with such a gentle sorrow that something in her snapped like a bowstring, loose and whipping about, breaking everything in her. She looked down at Avenay.

Her mate.

“I promise.”

“I’m glad I could see you again.”

Avenay’s eyes fluttered shut and those rattling breaths stopped as her body slumped against Enid. That gold string between them frayed and shattered. Enid didn’t know how long it was—time didn’t matter anymore—but she became faintly aware that her throat was raw and aching.

She’d been screaming.

Shewasscreaming.

And she wouldn’t stop. Maybe she’d scream until her breath stopped and her heart finally gave out. She’d felt the hollow ache of sorrow and loss before.

But this was different. That line between them had filled her with light and now only darkness remained. Only a void deeper than the pit, blacker than a starless night, sucking and pulling her in, ripping her into shreds.