Page 67 of Petals for Deadly Power

Jake. And his mental voice was full of bossy, authoritative threatening.

If you go, I’ll go with you, Lenna. Don’t you fucking dare.

Her snort in her mind was loud. As if she couldgoanywhere.

Snorting at me? Don’t take the piss, Brachyan, his voice penetrated her mind with a tinge of anger.

Wait—

a fucking—

minute.

No. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t hav—

Death was confusing as fuck.

His voice was full of amusement the next time—and something else that sounded like . . . hope, perhaps?—and she knew exactly how his silver eyes gleamed and the corner of his lips tugged upwards when he spoke like that. Pity she couldn’t see him.

I’ve been waitingmorethan a fucking minute. The only confusing thing here is why it’s taking you so long to open your eyes, so instead of giving me mental backtalk, collaborate.

She cracked a laugh.Collaborate. That was actually very funny.

Centuries, eons, or seconds passed, the limbo limbing in silence, the confusion confusingly lonely. Maybe she had lost the little plot she ever had.

As if someone had woken her with a sudden backslap, she felt her body again and—fuck, it was awful.

Every part of her body hurt. Her unmoving limbs, her shallow-breathing chest, her impenetrably shut eyelids, her excruciatingly dry mouth, and every damned cell.

Every. Single. One.

But hey, at least she owned a body again. A distant, rottenly sore body, but a body after all. A body that felt better by the second in different places, a body held by strong hands that were familiar, a body that was being Healed.

She had been Healed before, by the man who held her as if she would break if he’d let go, but this . . . This was different, more intense, more varied.

Her eyelids fluttered weakly. It felt as if she had to push against the whole Radel Sea to move them even the tiniest bit, but after what seemed like a decade or five, her eyes half-opened, her wide pupils readjusting.

Ciaran, Hope, and Ayla were in front of her, their palms extended, dark green, Cardinal-red, and silver sparks floating from their Healing hands towards her body. They were absolutely soaked, their expressions a nice combo of fear and worry and determination and whatever else.

“Lorolbol,” Lenna muttered.

“Oh, dear. We’ve lost her.” Ayla frowned. “Her brain is fried.”

“Say that again, Brachyan,” Jake ordered, his breath against her ear sending a delightful sensation towards her.

“Lookorrible,” Lenna repeated.

“You can’t honestly care about how you look like right now,” Ayla spat, pursing her lips.

Lenna cleared her throat. Her not-as-achy, thank-fuck-already-much-better throat. What a pleasure to get one’s body to act the way one wanted.

“Youthreelook horrible,” she repeated for the third time. “And you’re getting me wet.”

Ciaran laughed, tilting his head back. “Fuck you.”

“Welcome back, Lenna.” Hope grinned, and her black eyes moved to examine the way Ciaran was grinning. His blue eyes met Hope’s and then danced towards her grin, lingering way-too-long on her lips. Cardinals above, this pair.

“Have you two fucked yet?” she managed to say.

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