Page 33 of Soul of Thorns
I swallow and refocus. Caelynn resettles, sitting cross-legged, and offers me her arm. She concentrates on something over my shoulder. A gentle shield of shadows washes over the entrance to our cave. Blocking anyone outside from being able to see my glow of magic.
I grip her wrist gently, and my left-hand warms immediately without even needing to concentrate. My magic is ready and willing to heal my mate. My eyelashes flutter as the light rushes into her open wound, searching and clenching, stitching the tears in her flesh. It takes very little concentration to enter her this time. Now, I know her. I feel her. Caelynn’s dark energy washes over me. Her magic mingling with mine. I feel her pain, her bravery, her thirst, and fear. Her hope—a gentle glow so gloriously beautiful it takes my breath away. But that light is flickering, barely hanging on in a storm of raging winds. It’s cold. So cold.
My magic rushes forward, seeking to devour the cold, to warm her, to—
Caelynn rips her arm from mine, and I blink back to reality. Unbearable heat returns, my skin prickling with sticky sweat. Her eyes are wild, pained. She holds her arm to her chest tightly, leaning away from me. “What was that?”
My lips part. “I don’t know,” I whisper.
She blinks rapidly then shakes her head. “Let’s go.”
“Your arm is okay?”
She turns her arm over, skin pink and healthy.
“Okay. Let’s go.” We gather our bags, but I pause. “Will you promise to tell me if you’re not okay?”
Her eyebrows pull down. “I don’t know if I can tell anymore.”
Caelynn
Rev is quiet, standingjust a foot behind me, watching the roadway that leads to the fire wall.
We’d spent a full hour wandering the mountain west of the wall to no avail. We reverted back to the smaller mountain tucked between the larger two and finally found another small cave near a cliff where we can see the pathway leading to the flames.
We’ll have to walk a dozen feet around the corner to reach our sleeping place, but that might be a good thing. So, we’ve settled down on a large sturdy rock to stare at the flames for a very uneventful hour.
The area is still. No sign of wraiths. No shifting shadows or distant sounds. Nothing.
Then, breath catches in Rev’s throat, and I shift my gaze just as the fire ripples. A tiny opening unfolds and out hops a rabbit.
I blink and grab Rev’s hand to notify him of what I’ve seen without making a sound.
An undead rabbit, rib bones entirely exposed with one floppy ear, bone and sinew hanging off of it, hops a few steps beyond the flames causally. As if the fire holds no danger whatsoever.
It stops to sniff the air then freezes.
