Page 79 of Claimed By Stone
“No,” I muttered, standing even as the weight of fear threatened to crush me. “No. Not like this.”
I moved fast, careful but fierce, dressing her in one of her soft gowns, wrapping her in every blanket I could find. I tucked her against my chest as I held her stiffening form cradled in my arms.
“There was a scroll,” I said, more to myself than her. “On stone magic. I read it months ago. There has to be something in there. Something I missed.”
She didn’t answer, her eyes fluttering closed—still breathing, still with me, but fading.
I started for the study. For the war room. Foranswers.
Chapter 34
Thavros
Icradled her to my chest, blankets bundled tight around her stony limbs, and ran.
The snow outside was biting, but I didn’t feel it. Couldn’t. My entire world had narrowed to the weight in my arms and the flickering pulse of our bond. Faint. Weak. But there.
She didn’t move, didn’t speak, but I could stillfeelher.
Not gone.
Not yet.
The mountain loomed ahead, the great stone face of it a blur as I pushed my body harder than I ever had. My legs burned, my breath tore through me like knives, but I didn’t slow. The entrance to the stronghold opened before me like the mouth of salvation.
She was heavier now. The stone had spread fully to her fingers, her toes, and her arms were stiff and cold. Her lips had gone still. Even her tears had frozen halfway down her cheeks.
But she was stillmine.
I wouldn’t let her go. Icouldn’t.
The great doors of the stronghold slammed open ahead of me. Orcs in the hall shouted in surprise, guards, servants, warriors, but I didn’t stop. Didn’t speak.
Someone stepped into my path. I snarled—actuallysnarled—and they stumbled back, wide-eyed.
“Thavros—what happened?”
“Move,” I growled. “Out of my way.”
I barreled through the halls like a storm, my footsteps echoing off the stone walls, each one a desperate heartbeat. The guards outside the war room barely had time to open the doors before I shoved through, nearly unseeing.
The crystal in the center of the table pulsed dimly. Its light was sputtering, fading—like her.
I carried Seraphina’s form up the curved stairs to my study, heart thundering, and carefully laid her on the wide divan. My hands lingered on her cheek, and even in the marble, she was beautiful.
Still.
But the bond was still there.Still there.
I kissed her brow.
“My darling, Seraphine,” I said, breathing her name like a vow.
“Hold on,” I whispered. “I’m going to fix this.”
Then I turned to the shelves and began tearing through scrolls.
I turned from her statue—no, fromSeraphina, still warm in the bond—and began tearing through scrolls. My fingers fumbled with seals and ties, ink pots clattering to the stone floor. Dust clouded the air, mixing with my frantic breath.
