Page 116 of A Kiss From Death
Click.
The space starts to rattle and shake. Quickly, I stumble onto my hands and knees as my consciousness fades in and out. I can’t take any more. I’m losing too much blood, and I don’t think the swaying of my head and hallucinations are due to the drugs alone anymore. With the last ounce of energy I can muster, I drag my battered, bleeding body across to the finish platform and collapse in a heap of limp limbs just as the square I was on snaps away and tumbles to the ground.
My eyes dance with spots, and everything around me quiets as all the pain I had locked away batters against my body. It’s too much to bear, sinking its sharp teeth in me, attempting to drag me under.
A large body scoops me up and cradles me in their warm embrace. I’m holding on to the cusp of consciousness as I dance in the in-between, begging for mercy from the pain lancing my body.
“You cannot leave me. I won’t allow it. Stay awake for me, please! Ineedyou.” A feather light caress sweeps across my cheek at the same time wetness lands on my face, and I find it odd it could rain inside the Bubble. I wiggle deeper into the embrace, loving how the warmth feels against my skin that is slowly starting to go numb. Yes, this feels nice, and I welcome the pain fizzling away as my body goes light.
I’m ready for sleep.
“I would give up every last drop of my magic this instant if it meant spending one more day with you, if it promised I could hear that beautiful siren laugh of yours that’s the illogical reason behind mending my irreparable heart. You hold all my favorite memories in your delicate grasp, you know that? Your hands might even have a claim on my heart too.” A strand of hair is brushed from my face. “What have you done to me, dream? I never stood a chance, did I?”
Dream. Yes, that sounds so nice right now. I finally let go and drift off into a peaceful, welcoming sleep.
Aheaviness sits on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. I try to push through the thickness in my lungs, shoving as much air into them as possible. I startle when the heaviness in my chest…shifts.
Using all the energy I can muster, I peel one eye open. Sunlight assaults my eye, making it sting as I squint my surroundings into focus. The heaviness in my chest stirs again. No, not in my chest—onmy chest.
Black, unruly curls come into view, splayed in a pile of madness across my chest, and I yearn to run my fingers through them. Even, deep breaths fan from his lips, the same plump lips that currently sitinchesfrom my face.
Trailing my eyes up, I trace the white lightning bolt scar from his nose up through his pale eye, ending just before his hairline before it disappears underneath his obsidian curls.
I take a moment to study him, enjoying this peaceful moment for myself. I soak it up, every scar, mark, and feature etched within his skin that make up this unique beast. I’m lost in the moment, enjoying a second of quiet for the first time in weeks.
“Perfection,” I whisper under my breath as I grip one of his unruly curls between my thumb and finger.
“Are you done stripping me bare with your eyes?” His voice comes out gruff, like he hasn’t used it in a very long time.
I jolt, shocked I didn’t notice he was awake. “How did you know I was awake?”
Grunting, he shuffles, lifting his head to brace his chin on his fists, his elbows on the edge of the bed. Slowly, he drags his eyes down my entire body, looking me over for any wounds, I’m sure. “I notice everything when it comes to you,Nyxi.”
Empress, the way he says my name sends a jolt straight to my heart, threatening to stop it completely and revive it wholly in the same beat.
“You’re making it a habit of walking death’s door.” It’s a statement, not a question, flooding me with a million emotions.
“As long as you stand on the other side of that door to catch me, I don’t see the problem. What is it Winston called you?Daddy Death?”
“It’s a nasty habit you need to break,” he threatens, but it holds no malice, only an underlying tone of concern.
“As long as you keep saving me, I will make it my life’s mission to never stop.”
Rolling his eyes playfully, he looks me over once more, satisfied with my intact limbs and healed skin. He leans back in his chair, pulled close to his bed where I’m currently lying, and pins me with his stare.
After an intense moment of locked eyes, I manage to speak. “What happened?”
“You won the Crucible,” he replies simply.
I nod in understanding, remembering the last moment of dragging my battered body across to the finish before being devoured wholly by pain and nothingness. “How long have I been out?”
“A week. The blessing ceremony is set for tonight, but you don’t have to attend if you aren’t feeling up to it. It took a lot of mending to get you healed, and clearly, your body needed time to recuperate, seeing as you’ve been out cold for a week now.”
“I want to go.” The answer comes out firm, leaving no room for doubt. I’ve made it this far. This is the last step between me and my freedom, and then my revenge. I’m suddenly whipped in the face by the reality of what tonight’s events entail.
I will be grantedmagic.
“What does it feel like?” I question, nervously chewing on my bottom lip. His eyes track the movement before going back up to my eyes in understanding.
