Page 113 of The Spark that Ignites
Her eyes fell closed. It didn’t make a difference. She couldn’t see anyway. Agony in her chest spurred the need to scream but the connection to her body severed. If she could rip open her chest, release some pain, some of this terrible, unbearable pressure that inflated her like some sick, twisted carnival balloon—
There was too much. She sank into the darkness.
Her body was so damn cold.
Her last thoughts were of Maela as the abyss swallowed her.
And Death stretched for her.
She reached back.
Their hands brushed.
She let Death cradle her. And in His embrace, she finally found peace.
THE BRUISING HANDSon her chest hurt. The soft lips on hers tingled. A kiss of life. Air inflated her lungs. Another push on her chest. Her ribs would surely crack.
“Breathe. Come on, breathe!”
That voice. She knew that voice from somewhere.
Her eyes wouldn’t open. Too heavy. Pressure on her lips again—gentle or maybe they were numb. Her heart leapt. Water thrust from her lungs.
She coughed, water bubbling up and spilling out of her mouth.
Emmery leaned. Retched into the snow.
Gasped. Pulled in blazing, sweet air like burnt sugar.
“Wake up, Emmery.”
She tried. Gods, did she try but her eyes wouldn’t open. She choked once more, as she tumbled back into darkness.
Heated voices argued. She couldn’t decipher who as she slipped away.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
After sputtering back to life, disoriented and gripped by terror, an unbridled burning devoured her flesh that rivalled throwing herself onto a flaming pyre. Emmery had thrashed uncontrollably in Vesper’s lap, nearly toppling off Balthasar, until Vesper rendered her unconscious.
Hours later, she stomped furiously around their makeshift camp in a smattering of trees.
“I can’t believe you knocked me out,” she accused, crossing her arms. How he found that pressure point in her neck was beyond her knowledge. “You could have warned me.”
Vesper paused his chewing, his fingers sinking into the bread. “First, you’re welcome. Second, you were in discomfort and fighting frostbite. I solved the problem.” He shrugged, extending his boots toward the fire from where he sat. “It was an unorthodox solution, but you would’ve taken us both down. Remember how we talked about self-preservation?”
Emmery wouldn’t admit it but if she hadn’t slept, she may have lost her damn mind.
She had woken with a raw throat, sweaty, and sore, but luckily, she could feel all her extremities. And Vesper had ensured they made it to Deimos’s Mausoleum.
He bit off a chunk with gusto and spoke around the bread. “Also, for someone who hates water you sure find yourself in it a lot. Can I ask why you were running across a frozen lake in the wrong direction?”
Vesper’s spare clothes hung comically off her frame while hers dried next to the fire. “They saw me. Melantha and Serafelle. And a dozen Hollow hounds.” She shivered and sank down beside him. “Did you find that girl’s mother?” He assured all survivors were brought to safety and received an invitation to Ellynne.
But Vesper paled. “Her mother ...” The shake of his head told her all she needed to know.
Emmery’s chest throbbed and guilt cinched her gut. “I—I did that. She died because I opened that damn passage.” She swallowed, laying her head in her shaking hands.
Vesper shifted closer, tugging her into his side. “It’s done now. It’s alright.”
