Page 154 of Feathers of Ash and Hope

I strain my brain for information, but I only remember talking to my brother. No, that can’t be right… Why would I be with Tate if I had been talking to my brother? There are other memories, snippets: a forest, a snake, fighting, panic, a man sneering at me.

And there is another scent, much fainter than Tate’s and less pleasant—the fire at the mountain, smoke. But that was weeks ago. Why am I smelling smoke now?

Concern floods me, but it’s not my own; it’s someone else’s.

“You’ll be alright,”a voice reassures me in my mind.

In my mind?

My eyes fly open with a startled gasp, but I close them again when the room dances above me. My head pounds, and I’m queasy.

I try again, and this time, Tate is leaning over me, but his face is double, and the versions swim into each other, making the nausea even worse.

My whole body hurts so bad.

I don’t want to sit up, but I’m afraid I will be sick any minute, so I try only to fall back, whimpering.

“Don’t move, sunshine.” Tate’s voice is soothing but worried. “You did take quite a fall, and I don’t even know what you went through before that.”

Fall? Have I fainted or something? Gods, I hope not.

“Fall?” My voice is a croak, my throat parched.

What the heck did I do?

“You don’t remember?” His voice is grim.

I start to shake my head, but that makes my nausea and pain even worse, so I stop.

“Can I start healing you? Please, just a bit?” he asks.

“Okay.” Damn, my voice does sound bad, all hoarse and raspy, and speaking hurts. “Could you start with my head?” I really would prefer to get out of this without throwing up at his feet.

“Yeah, that is a great idea,” he says, and the mattress dips with his weight, his soft touch settling on my brow seconds later. Glowing golden warmth floods my body in a rush, like he pushes all he's got at me at once.

He’s scared I will fall asleep again.

Because of the sheer might of his magic flooding me, I expect my curse to retaliate with a vengeance, and it does rise, but weakly.

What the fuck happened?

The pounding in my head recedes, and when I open my eyes, it’s without the double vision.

Relief is written all over Tate’s face when my eyes meet his. His magic shifts inside me, trailing over my spine and my organs like it’s searching for injuries.

“It feels like your magic is poking around, searching through me.” It slips along my hurting throat, soothing it. My voice still sounds awful, but the pain is gone.

“You feel that?” He stops, looking at me questioningly.

“Yeah,” I croak. He still looks so haunted that I want to cuddle and comfort him. I start to sit up, grinding my teeth, when my body screams in agony. But at least the world no longer tilts around me.

“What are you doing?” Tate snaps. His hands land on my shoulders, pushing me softly back down, but he snatches his hands away when I wince in pain. Anguish flits across his face, and I growl in frustration.

“I need you to hold me,” I tell him.

“I need to heal you first,” he replies.

“How about you heal me while holding me?” I ask. Tate looks at me, and for a second, I think he’ll refuse, but then he nods with a small smile on his lips.

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