CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Krivoth's body cradles me as we fall, and it's just like all those times I first practiced my pushing power. We land, him on the bottom, me on top facing upward.

The power of Alarria sings through my body, warming my blood and tingling along my nerves. I drop the bag and raise both hands, palms pointed to the sky.

In a pulse of power, I push. I push with everything I am. I push with all my love for Krivoth.

Because I do. I love him.

Seeing the birds peck him bloody, seeing his strikes slow and knowing the sluagh ate his soul…

No. Just all the no!

A percussive blast shoots from me, pulverizing each bird as it hits. They break apart, the ash of their dissolving bodies swept upward by the wave of my power until even that fades from view. Strike after strike, the birds disappear as the magical surge hits them.

I keep pushing, pouring more power into the thrust.

The last few birds wink out, leaving only one, right in the center. It morphs into a skeletal figure wrapped in smoky gray robes. Furious red eyes glare at me with pure hate, and it screams, the sounds ripped from its mouth, my power smearing the words into nonsense. It flies straight up, pushed by my power, its body disintegrating as it goes, but slowly, so slowly compared to the other birds.

Those were the victims. This is the actual sluagh.

Magic tears through me, starting to burn, the pain growing. I guess I'm not supposed to use this much in one go. All of Alarria's might waits below me, ready for me to use, but I'm only human. My body's still tiny and fragile. Proper witch training probably woulda taught me the safe limits, but there's been none of that.

Thank god, I'm stubborn as hell.

I shove, thrusting my arms upward. Power tears across my nerves, setting them on fire. I can barely feel Krivoth's strong body below mine, holding me. But I know he's there.

I do this for him.

I do this for us. Because I want there to be an "us." I want it with everything I am.

Tears of pain fill my eyes as my heart beats so hard it feels like it'll break out of my chest. I can't breathe, pain locking my muscles tight.

A horrible shriek comes from the sluagh, drawn out as the last of its form crumbles to dust that flies up and up and spreads across the sky until there's nothing left but sunshine and blue.

My vision goes black, and I come to some time later with Krivoth's worried face hovering over me. "Taylor? Taylor, can you hear me?"

I blink at him, the only movement I can make. My whole body feels numb, like it's been packed away in cotton wool like a glass Christmas ornament that won't be needed for another year.

Mist appears, looking upside down from this angle. "Is she okay?"

"What's wrong with her?" Storm enters into view beside her.

"She killed a sluagh all on her own," Krivoth says.

"Impossible!" the unicorn says.

"I do not lie," Krivoth growls. "My bride is amazing."

"So what's wrong with her?"

"I don't know!" Krivoth snaps.

"Then let me try to heal her." The unicorn's horn fills my view.

"No!" Krivoth says. "Because if that works—"

"If it works, it means she'll die without it, so let me do it!" Storm snaps.

Mist puts a huge paw on Krivoth's shoulder, her claws extended just enough to prick the linen. "Let the unicorn try."

Krivoth's lips twist away from his tusks in a way that makes my heart ache, and I long to reach out to him and tell him I'm okay.

But I can't, because I'm not.

He gathers himself, controlling his expression, and nods. "Do it."

Storm's horn grows larger, then slides to the side and out of view like it's touching my shoulder.

I don't feel anything.

Storm lifts his head and shakes it, sending his mane flying. "It's good news and bad news. The good news is she's not on death's door. The bad news is my healing magic can therefore do nothing for her."

"It was worth trying," Mist says. "We're no worse off than we were before, and you might have saved her life." It's the kindest she's ever been to Storm, and I want to give her a hug. She's got a good heart underneath all that cattitude.

Krivoth nods, his eyes searching my face. His shoulders move, and his hand touches my cheek.

I can feel it! Skin to skin, the hum of his magic calls to mine. It hurts—oh, god the place inside me that holds my magic hurts so much!—but it's better than feeling effing nothing.

I suck in a pained gasp and breathe out, "Krivoth."

"Taylor!" Relief fills his voice as he wraps me in a tight hug.

Mist's sandpaper tongue licks my cheek, and Storm snuffles at my hair. I can feel it through the pain—all of their affection and Krivoth's strong arms locked around me.

Nothing's ever felt better.