Page 106 of Grim and Oro

---

I shake her, fear and desperation and pain taking over.

“Wake up,” I say, my voice breaking. “Stab me through the chest again if you have to, just wake up.”

As life leaves her, she manages to say, “Grim. Pain is not the strongest.”

No. Don’t go. Don’t leave me here, alone. Stay.

Stay.

She doesn’t.

She dies.

Isla was right. I know that now. She taught me.

Pain is not the strongest.

Love is.

I imagine a life without that smile, that laugh, those eyes. Withouther. And the world feels unworthy of turning. Everyone else seems unworthy of living.

My roar shakes the world as I demand it to give her back, as I threaten time with all my shadows, as I plead with the gods,begging.

I will give anything, I think.Anything.

Even myself.

I feel a pull. The last shred of her power, somewhere down this crumbling bridge. I reach toward it. Clutch it.

It is almost gone, fading, like the last star in the sky blinking closed.

No.

My pain, my power, it has all been used tokill, todestroy. Maybe it could be used for something good. Maybe it could be used tosave. This bridge between us—it goes both ways.

I remember something I read centuries before, in a book that is now just dust. An ancient way to save a life by trading it. By giving something up. Givingeverything.

I do.

I feel the power rushing from me, draining me, and this is what my father warned about. This is the love that kills kingdoms. This love feels like it could killworlds.

I don’t care.

I press a hand against her still heart, and I bring all of myself to the surface. The power. The life. The blood.

I give it all to her, to my heart, almost losing myself in the process, almost giving too much away—

Until I hear a beat.

She opens her eyes, and the relief—it consumes me.

I’m alive.

So is she.

Green.Green. “Heart. You’re here, heart.” My hands shake, feeling the warmth return to her cold skin. Seeing the color come back.

“How?” she asks in a feeble rasp.

---