Page 212 of Unbound

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Iwake to sunlight filtering through familiar windows.My windows.

The sun means the Crucible must be over. The storm has passed. But how?

The room is cool and quiet, the scent of healing herbs lingering in the air. My body feels distant, as if I'm floating slightly above it—the aftermath of drawing too much essence, of pushing my unbound nature beyond what it could safely contain.

Memories flood back in disjointed fragments. The Crucible. The storm. Killing the windborne. Collapsing as Typhon roared his defiance. Raith...

"Raith," I whisper, my throat raw. I reach for our tether, finding it present but strangely muted, like a voice heard through thick glass.

"Nessa!" Mireen's face appears above me, her copper-red hair falling loose around her shoulders. Relief floods her features. "Thank the elements. You've been out for days. Good thing we already had practice with the whole routine of keeping an eye on you while unconscious.”

I try to sit up, wincing as my muscles protest. "Days?"

"Easy," she says, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "The healers said you nearly burned yourself out. Whatever you did in the forest... it was too much. But on the bright side, I had a lot of fun practicing a eulogy for you. And no, I won’t tell you what was in it. I’m still saving it incase you decide to croak in the near future.”

Typhon materializes beside the bed, his flying fish form diminished to nearly half its usual size. "The angry human lives," he says in my mind, but there's no hiding his relief. "I told them you would survive, but they insisted on fussing anyway."

"Where are the others?" I ask, scanning the room.

"Beck and Ambrose are fine," Mireen says. "Brunhild too. They've been taking shifts watching over you.Again,” she adds with a grin. "You're quite the celebrity now, you know. Everyone saw Typhon in his true form. They're calling you the Dragon Tamer."

I groan, letting my head fall back against the pillow. "Wonderful."

"It's not all bad," she continues, pouring water from a crystal pitcher. "I think people are going to think twice before crossing you now. Malakai's alliance has completely fractured—most of them are distancing themselves from him and Serena as fast as they can."

I take the offered water, drinking deeply. "What about Raith? Where is he?"

Mireen’s expression falls, and my heart drops along with it. "He..." she hesitates. "He got you back safely, but he was pretty badly injured. Collapsed right after getting you to the healers."

Ice floods my veins as I bolt upright, ignoring the pain. "What? Where is he now?"

"The healers are taking care of him," she says, but there's uncertainty in her voice. "They wouldn't let any of us see him, not even the fires. Voss was personally looking over him apparently and keeping people away for Raith’s safety."

I throw back the covers, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. "I need to see him."

"Nessa, wait—you're still weak."

"I don't care." The tether between us pulses, but it's so faint, so distant. Fear claws at my throat. "Something's wrong, Mireen. I can feel it."

The door opens before Mireen can respond. Rector Voss enters, silver hair immaculate as always, his face a careful mask of concern.

"Miss Thorne," he says, inclining his head. "It's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

"Where's Raith?" I demand, ignoring his question.

Voss's expression softens. "Mr. Hollow's condition is... complex. His injuries were severe.”

"I want to see him."

"Of course," Voss says, surprising me with his easy acquiescence. "That's why I'm here. I thought you might want to see him as soon as you woke up."

"Rector," Mireen begins, "the healers said she shouldn't?—"

"It will be fine," Voss interrupts gently. "I'll personally ensure Miss Thorne's safety."

“I do not trust him, angry human,” Typhon warns in my mind.

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