Page 148 of To Kill a King
Don’t be sad, El. It doesn’t hurt anymore. And I’m so tired.
“I don’t understand. The Aliya I know would fight for her life. Where’s that Larimar spirit I’ve come to know and love?”
Love? She frowned.
Elessan chuckled, but it rang hollow.
Malkov gave me something to drink. It’s making the world spin. She held up her noncorporeal hand, rocking it back and forth like a boat on rough seas. The table does this. Can’t concentrate.
The stars on his face hovered above her. “I need you to fight for me, sweetheart. Please. While I figure this out. Open your eyes.”
She tried. But with the rocking table and the soothing sound of his voice, it was easier to keep them closed.
Threading one hand through her ephemeral hair, he pressed his lips to hers. His fingers caressed her scalp.
She groaned in the back of her throat. Not fair.
He broke the kiss slowly and held his arm up where she could see the lights dance across his skin. “You like the way I look when this happens, right?”
She pursed her lips and nodded. It’s magnificent.
“Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart, okay? Watch the stars.”
Okay. She fought and managed to crack one eye open, then the other.
He reached toward her magic. Grasping it as though it was the most fragile thing he’d ever held, he brought it close to his face.
The stars meandering across his body shifted trajectory and converged on his wrists and fingers as though her magic was some sort of magnet.
Her light glowed in response. It got brighter and brighter until she had to close her eyes and turn away.
When he spoke, Elessan’s voice was breathy and distant. “I see. I…I think I know what to do, how to fix this.”
What? She turned to face him, peeking from between barely opened lids.
He cupped her magic gently in the palm of his hand, bringing it over and laying it against her collarbone. Placing his hand over the spark, he pressed it against her skin.
Heat and light radiated from where his hand met her sternum. Starlight burst from his hands, blinding her through her eyelids. The bindings around her wrists broke free and tumbled to the ground with a metallic clank.
She took a deep breath as warmth chased the fog from her mind. The table pressed against her shoulder blades. Her wrists burned and tingled where the iron manacles had touched them.
“Aliya!” His free hand slid under her head, hugging her against him.
She threaded her arms around him and buried her head in his chest, squinting against the light. The moisture squeezing its way through her lids may not have been entirely due to the brightness. “El…I thought you were dead.” He smelled so good, like summer sun and pine forest with a salty overlay of sweat.
He barked a laugh. “You thought I was dead? I nearly lost you.”
She shook her head. “You should’ve, I don’t deserve to live. It’s my fault Karlee and Kord are dead.”
“Who and who?” He shook his head. “Don’t say things like that. Of course you deserve to live.”
Her voice broke. “And Cressida.”
“Cressida?”
She turned away, unable to face him, grief tearing the words from her throat. He deserved to know. “Her shield. It was holding the assassins off, but they were killing Lindir, so I shot a bolt of magic. It disrupted hers. They wouldn’t have been able to get to her if I hadn’t ruined everything.”
He pulled her into a sitting position, cradling her head against his chest. “Shh. Cressida trained for centuries; she was a skilled battle mage. You weren’t the one to shoot the Dragonstick into her chest. Her death is the humans’ fault, and theirs alone. Even if they only achieved it by sheer luck.”