“Rhianna!” he yells, chasing after me.
I keep running. Except I can’t see Phoenix or Azlan any more, they’re gone from the spot they just were and now the hall is filling with smoke. I cough as it catches in my chest. I can’t see, can’t see through the fog of smoke.
“Azlan! Stone!” I lay my palms on my stomach, coughing and spluttering as I do, searching for that pull, that tug, the bond. I feel them, both of them, they are alive, safe. And I almost sob in relief, but I’ve no time to savor the feeling as more magic thunders around me and the surviving beams of the ceiling groan, crashing down onto everyone below. I throw myself onto the ground, rolling through the smoke and the debris, hoping I’m moving away from the danger. Then I’m back on my hands and knees, firing magic at the men who’ve come to attack us.
A hand yanks me onto my feet. Tristan again.
“Get off me!” I yell at him. “I don’t need your help.”
“Tough shit, little Piglet. You’re getting it anyway.” He swings me to one side, and shoots his magic at a man racing straight towards us. The man crumples like a rag doll and then Tristan’s firing again, his magic stronger, brighter, than all the rest, lighting up the smoke in a rainbow of colors.
I twist my arm in his grip, pulling and tugging. I don’t want his help. Not his. I don’t care how much my magic begs to join his, to combine with it. I don’t care how the bond strains so much it hurts.
“Rhi!” he barks. “There’s too many of them. I need your help. We need to combine our magic.” I shake my head violently. “Rhianna!” he snaps. “You want your friends to die? You want yourmatesto die?”
Pain sears through my gut at the very thought of it and my magic races from me before I can stop it. It swims through the air, straight towards his and when they collide, it’s like lightning, electricity streaking through every nerve, every bone, our magic so bright it blinds me.
My magic bleeds into his and his into mine and it’s never been like this before; I feel everything, every part of him, all his power, all his anger, all his fears, all his love.
My bond sings in my stomach and I don’t know what it means, what we’ve done.
But then he’s calling my name again through all the noise. My eyes find his and I know what he needs me to do without saying a word. Together, we fling our arms forward, launching our combined magic across the hall towards the men streaming inside. It explodes into them and they fall like dominos.
Then we send a torrent of water at the blazing drapes, dousing them completely, steam hissing and curling into the air. We do it again before thundering magic at more soldiers, more and more of them falling. We’re winning, taking control, driving them backwards.
“The dragons,” Tristan yells and we fling our magic at a giant beast in the air, watching as it’s blown high, high, high up into the air, till it’s only a twinkle of a star like all the others.
I look at him, smiling, his magic curling and caressing around mine like it never wants to stop touching mine. His gaze drops down from the sky and he smiles at me in wonder, looking more beautiful in that moment than I think he ever has. Real and genuine. I smile right back at him, right up into his beautiful face, the warmth in our bond making me light-headed and giddy, and then it happens.
A bolt of magic streaks towards me. And I’ve no time to react. Nowhere to go. Tristan darts in front of me, shielding me with his much bigger frame. The magic slams into his body, his eyes widen in shock, he peers down at the massive wound in his stomach.
“I’m s-s-sorry,” he stutters.
And then he falls to the ground.
52
Rhi
His magic,so vivid, so alive, so raw, so powerful, lingers in the sky like smoke, then fades, slips away from mine. I cling to it, grasp at it, but it slides from my own and I’m alone, all alone.
I howl, the pain in my body so intense, I don’t know what to do with myself.
I claw at my skin, pull at my hair, fling my pathetic magic all around me.
He can’t be, he can’t be! Please no! Please no!
I didn’t mean it. I didn’t. All those times I said I hated him. All those times I swore I wanted him gone. All those times I promised I didn’t want him. It was lies. All lies.
I want him. I need him. He’s mine and I am meant to be his. And he can’t be gone, snatched from my grasp. He can’t be.
I fling back my head and howl, pain and misery thunder through me and I start to lose my grip on my mind, on my thoughts, on my awareness. The pain is too great. The misery too deep. I’m drowning in it.
Around me the battle continues. Magic exploding, dragons roaring, men fighting. But now it’s as if everything is slowed down, yanked under water. The sound is muffled, unclear, the colors dim, bleached, the movement dragging.
What do I do? What do I do now? Because he’s gone and I don’t know what I’m meant to do.
My head spins and spins. I barely know who I am. What I am. I grip my head in my hands.