Page 66 of Magic Claimed
I felt his chest rising and falling beneath my hands, as if he’d run a thousand miles to reach this point. Felt his hand squeeze my waist, and then…
The storm died.
The winds were cut off.
Everything that raged at his heart suddenly went silent, and I heard a hoarse whisper.
“Raine.”
Tears erupted and ran down my face, unchecked.
“Yes. It’s me.”
He collapsed—dropped to his knees and slumped over, catching himself with one hand, while the other wrapped around me to keep me from falling.
For a moment we hovered there. I was resting on his forearm, barely holding my own head up as I reached out to tilt his face towards mine. Waiting for those gorgeous amber eyes to open, while searching for any sign that he was going to be okay.
“Callum?”
He nodded, but slowly, as if every motion hurt. His eyes finally opened. He was still breathing hard, but with a sense of release. And then he looked at me.
There was no glow of magic in those amber depths. Not even a spark of power. Only a deep well of recognition and a sense of connection so profound that I nearly gasped aloud.
And yet, there was no smile on his lips, no hope on his face. Only a sort of lost emptiness.
“Callum, what’s wrong? Are you still in pain?”
He clenched me to him suddenly, pulling me to his chest and tucking his face into my shoulder, his arms shaking as he held me.
“You’re real,” he whispered. “You’re really real this time.”
“Of course I’m real.” I gave in to temptation and touched his hair, running my fingers through the disorderly auburn strands with fierce relief. “And I’m not going anywhere. Callum, I’ve fully accepted our bond.”
He didn’t react at all. Not with excitement, not with relief, only a quiet sort of despair.
“What is it?” I pulled back, took his face between my hands and forced him to look at me. “You’re scaring me, Callum. What is it?”
His eyes fluttered closed. “I can’t feel you,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t feel anything. The bond, the dragon… all of my magic and my connections to my people and my family. They’re justgone.”
SIXTEEN
I didn’t havetime to ask questions, or even process the horror of what he’d revealed. The door eased open, Ryker’s head popped in, and he stared at both of us for a moment before moving fully into the room, folding his arms, and narrowing his eyes at Callum.
“Who am I?” he demanded.
After a brief hesitation, Callum seemed to pull himself together, locking away both his worry and despair as he rose to his feet, bringing me with him.
“You’re the bratty little brother who won’t leave me alone when all I’m trying to do is get a decent nap,” he grumbled, with a tired half-smile.
Ryker’s jaw clenched. His eyes went suspiciously red, then he whirled around to face the wall, hands on his hips, head tilted back. I heard a sniffle or two before he turned back again, blinking and grimacing in a transparent attempt to conceal his relief.
“You know what, I hate you,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s the last time I turn down a party invitation to babysit your lazy backside while you recover from a tiny little scratch that would barely inconvenience a baby.”
Callum’s lips twitched. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but I could tell he was trying. For Ryker’s sake.
“Fine by me. Maybe next time I’ll be able to actually get some rest instead of listening to you carry on like you think you’re at a funeral.”
Ryker’s face went flat. “I almost was,” he said softly. “And I think you know it, too.”
