Page 65 of Ember and Eclipse
And that seemed more plausible. No one was meant for her, she just happened to be meant for someone else.
Was that why she found herself waking in the middle of the night, her chest cleaving in two, her very heart being torn in half? Was that why, dreaming or awake, she thought of Devdan?
Hehauntedher.
His sacrifice to get her out, the way he smiled at her when her magic showed, even though she would have never been able to save him.
Is he alive?a quieter, weaker part of her wondered.
It was enough to make her want to pull her hair out, yet she could barely raise her arms to do so.
Rain pelted her roof with the promise of a storm, and somewhat soothed, she contemplated falling asleep in the chair when a deep thud sounded from outside that wasn’t thunder. Before she could react, fear having frozen her in place, there was banging against her door.
Leaping up from the seat, she jumped over its arm to grab her knives.
What if they had come for her again? What if they had tracked her down, and they were here because she had killed the Imperator? She’d been waiting these past few days for this exact possibility.
Another knock came, weaker and shorter. She opened the door quickly, her knives ready.
And though it was a hunter, it wasn’t one she expected.
Devdan.A sharp ache flashed in her chest.
He was haggard. His clothes were torn and ragged, his usual beautiful skin pale gray and clammy. The juncture where his shoulder met his neck was a mangled mess of dried blood and torn tissue.
“I didn’t know where else to go, and I had to… I had to know.” He reached for her, his fingers sliding over her cheek, his touch too hot.
“Know what?” she asked, but her focus was on the wound at his neck. He wasdying.
“That you were safe.” His hand dropped from her face as he fought to keep consciousness.
She lunged for him, and even on the brink of passing out,hetried to steadyher.
“Lean on me,” she gasped.
He obeyed, but she thought it might only be because he was about to collapse. They stumbled through her home, bumping into the walls and tables, sending objects crashing to the ground in their wake.
“Just make it,” she grunted as more of his weight shifted against her, “to my bedroom.”
And he did. Barely. He lost consciousness the moment she turned them, and his calves met the edge of the bed.
Untangling herself from his fallen form, she stood back up with a groan. His chest moved raggedly. She knew magic could be used to heal as there were groups of healers in the Mark. However, that didn’t help her understand what to do with hers to help him. Instead, she boiled strips of cloth and attempted to clean the wound at his neck. The artery was exposed, leaving her to work slowly and carefully.
Once the wound was cleaned, she saw where his torn skin was attempting to sew itself together again. Attempting to heal. Lunae healed quickly, she knew. She just hoped it was fast enough to save him.
By the time she got his neck cleaned and bandaged to the best of her ability, her hands and the front of her tunic were stained red.
He would have had to sprint the entire way if he had gotten there in what couldn’t have been more than five nights. No sleep. No food. Nothing. Just the singular purpose of getting to her.
“Don’t die,” she murmured. She let her fingertips dance over his bare arm. His flesh was hotter than his usual Lunae heat, burning with fever.
She put a cool cloth over his forehead and pressed her own forehead to his arm.
“To any gods who are listening, please don’t let him die.”
She awoke to a weight against her head. Turning slowly, she found Devdan already awake and staring at her. In the space of two blinks, he moved his hand out of her hair.
“You’re alive.”
