Page 109 of Visions of You
Jaron's hands were trembling as they held tight to Keegan's limp body. His breath came in ragged gasps, each one sharper than the last. He'd promised himself he would never hurt Keegan, and now here he was, cradling the lifeless form of his mate.
He didn't know how long he knelt there, the weight of Keegan's absence pressing down on him like a physical force. The room's oppressive silence was shattered only by his uneven sobs. Jaron's focus was wholly on Keegan, unable to let his gaze or thoughts stray from the fallen vampire.
A rustle, then Malkira's voice pierced through his haze. "Is it done?"
Jaron snapped his head up, rage overtaking his sorrow. This was all her fault. He lunged at the witch, fury fueling his weary limbs, but she evaded him.
"I understand that you're angry, but there was nothing else I could do," she attempted, her tone almost pleading.
He didn't care what she had to say. He would never care again. But before he could tell her as much, out of nowhere, Mordyn appeared, drawing his blade. One fluid motion and Malkira's head separated from her shoulders, her body crumpling to the floor in a lifeless heap.
Jaron stared.
Mordyn met his gaze, unflinching. "I don't know what you did, but all the kidnapped victims are still breathing."
Jaron glanced around, barely registering the forms of Casca, Fei, and Apollo still shackled, unconscious but alive. His hands shook as he took the scarf from Malkira's fallen form, wanting to cry all over again.
The fabric was warm and holding it felt like holding on to a piece of his mate. For a moment, it was as if Keegan was still with him.
Mordyn moved to check on Keegan. A sob rose in Jaron's throat as he watched, but he bit it back.
Mordyn pulled the stake from Keegan's chest. He frowned, observing Keegan's body closely. "He hasn't dissolved into ash."
"What does that mean?" Jaron's voice cracked.
Mordyn glanced back at Jaron, his brow furrowed. "Vampires' bodies dissolve when they die." He gestured around the room. "Can you feel the magic in the air? Something's going on."
Jaron tried to force himself to focus, clutching Keegan's scarf closer to his chest. He could feel the magic, and it felt like Keegan. He closed his eyes and let that energy surround him, envelop him in its warmth.
Keegan had planned something, hadn't he? Was he trying to change fate even now, from beyond the veil of death?
What are you doing?Jaron asked fervently, as if Keegan could somehow answer him, could hear his desperate plea.
He didn't get a response, of course, except for the oddest feeling, a certainty that settled deep in his bones. He knew exactly what Keegan needed. More energy, more magic. He didn't know how he knew this, but the knowledge was there, undeniable. His mate's soul was struggling, and it needed Jaron's help.
Jaron didn't know how to feed energy to his deceased mate.
He glanced down at the scarf in his hands and was struck by a sudden realization.
This was what still connected him to Keegan. The literal threads that bound him to his love. He could feel magic there. Connection.
If he could only…
Jaron took a deep breath, steeling himself. Keegan had believed in him, had trusted him with everything. Jaron wouldn't let him down. Not now, not ever.
He opened his mouth, and for the first time in his life, breathed fire onto the scarf, feeding all his magic into it, willing it to reach Keegan wherever he was.
Keegan struggled to mend the fraying strands of fate. Most of his power had been used up purging the virus from Casca and Fei and connecting them back to their rightful fates without killing them in the process. That had taken a lot out of him, yet there was still so much more to do, so much damage to repair.
The strain bore down on him, but he couldn't stop until he'd fixed everything. Only then could he rest in peace.
Only then would he know that Jaron's future was safe.
He felt like he could feel Jaron's presence with him now. As if he could hear his voice in his head.What do you need?
Just a little more, Keegan thought, desperation lacing his mental plea.
Then, suddenly, warmth flooded him. It was like fire igniting his very soul, a force stronger than anything he'd ever felt before. A rush of power surged through him, and with it, the energy to fix the last strands of fate. The fraying edges straightened, thechaotic ends smoothed and bound, each destiny restored to its rightful path.
