Page 78 of Necromance

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My breath hitched. My hand curled into his coat, frantic, desperate. I pressed my ear tighter against his chest.

Thump-thump.

Steady. Slow. Real.

He was breathing.

“Lucien,” I gasped, lifting my head. “Lucien—!”

He didn’t open his eyes, but I felt it—the warmth blooming in him, slow and quiet, like a fire coaxed back to life.

He was alive. He was still in there.

I kept my ear pressed to his chest, afraid that if I moved, it would stop. That this was just another cruel illusion of the castle. Another dream Serena had spun to break me.

But his heart kept beating.

Slow. Steady. Alive.

“Lucien,” I cried, lifting myself just enough to see his face. “Please… come back.”

I brushed the hair from his forehead with trembling fingers. His skin was warm now, not the cold stillness of death. But he didn’t stir. His lips were parted, his brow relaxed—peaceful. Too peaceful.

“Wake up,” I begged. “Please, I don’t care about the curse—I don’t care what it costs. Just… wake up.”

I shook him gently. Called his name again. Nothing.

Desperation twisted inside me.

Then something came back to me.

Something my grandmother had said in Lucien’s memory, something I had dismissed.

My soul. Lucien gave it back to me. A sacrifice… given freely.

True Love. Spoken. Shown.

My heart pounded as I leaned over him, hovering above his lips.

It felt ridiculous, childlike. The sort of magic you heard about in fairytales. But this wasn’t a fairy tale. This was pain and sacrifice and choosing each other through darkness.

And I did love him.

Fully. Helplessly.

I reached up, cradled his face in both hands, and with a whisper of breath I leaned down and kissed him.

It was soft. Hesitant. My lips brushed his like a vow, like a plea, like an offering.

And then—

He inhaled sharply.

I gasped, pulling back just as his eyes fluttered open—storm-dark and dazed.

“Mia?” he rasped.

Relief crashed through me so hard it stole my breath.

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