Page 68 of The Stygian Crown

“Yes.”

“The shadow of death hangs over him; he sits astride the realms. The man is barely there, but the demon lingers. He is strong. Worthy of you, perhaps.”

The fighting in the hallway sounded closer now. A few Sanguines emerged from it, blood smearing their armor. They glanced at Victus’s headless corpse floating at the bottom of the pit and kept running.

“Your blade, please.”

Kara passed her the dagger.

“If I do this for you, blood of my blood, then I will ask a boon in return. I will call upon you for a favor in the future.”

Kara nodded. “Anything.” She knew she wouldn’t like the price she’d be asked to pay, but Namirah was right. Logan already had her whole soul, and losing him would break her.

“Kara—” Wesley said.

Kara cut her eyes to him. “Shut up, Wesley.”

“Swear it in blood,” Namirah said.

Kara clasped Namirah’s bloody hand in hers. “I swear it. I owe you a boon.”

Namirah sliced through her left arm, which bore the same mark as all of her chosen. She held her wrist to Logan’s mouth and looked down at his bared chest. “You must work on your runes. I will train you.” She made several bloody swipes through one of Kara’s runes, creating one that Kara didn’t recognize. More swipes, and Logan’s bindings snapped open.

Kara stared at Logan, willing him back to life. Imagining a link between them that traded her life force for his.

A shadow flickered over Logan’s skin and settled into it. For a small eternity, nothing happened. He was still, breathless. His chest didn’t rise and fall, his eyes didn’t burn through her with their fire. A sob crawled its way up Kara’s throat. She dug her nails into her palms until her skin split.

Then Logan’s eyes snapped wide, and he drew in a deep, gasping breath. Like he’d been yanked back to life.

Kara threw herself at him, wrapping around him in a hug that squeezed his ribs together.

He groaned at the contact and returned the embrace, fingers curling weakly around her waist.

“I thought I lost you,” she whispered into his neck. The tears she’d been holding back began to fall in great, wracking sobs, and her body shook against his.

He pressed his lips against her brow so hard she could feel his teeth behind them. “I’m right here, love. I’m not going anywhere.”

Kara took a ragged breath. “How do you feel?”

“Like I had a very nice nap. Peaceful. Dark. There was a very good-looking demon fellow—”

She resisted the urge to punch him in the arm. “I love you, Logan Vakarian.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that. To hold you in my arms as it falls from your lips.”

Kara pulled back and pressed her forehead against his. Something sharp poked her arm, and she frowned and pulled away.

Large black spikes were growing from Logan’s shoulders, filling the gaping holes Victus’s torture had left and curving along his back like thorns on a flower.

Kara’s gaze snapped to Namirah. She should have known better than to trust her. “What’s happening to him?”

“A side effect of my demon-rich blood. The muscles and tendons in those areas were torn, shredded over and over and thick with scar tissue. The blood improvised, adapted.”

“I can feel them growing out the back of my calves, too. I’ll have to have all my clothes tailored.”

Feet soldiered up the hallway.

“Cavalry’s here!” Jon’s voice rung out as he burst into the room, his face streaked with blood.

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