Page 125 of Heir of Blood & Fire
“You’re shaking,” he notes.
“I know,” I say more sharply than I intend. “I’m nervous.”
“You’re not alone. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“Almost every step,” I counter.
“Oh, shut up,” he says, pulling me tighter into him. I wrap my arms around his waist and take a deep, steadying breath. Feeling the vibration of the ground beneath me, the hum of magic prickling my limbs, I summon the shadows. They snake around us until we are devoured in darkness.
We hold fast to each other as the winds toss us and tug us in every direction. I feel the sweat beading on my forehead as I strain to hold the shadows in place. A little longer. I can hold out a few more seconds. I fight to concentrate, but my limbs start to feel heavy, lethargic.
“Serena,” Jace says in the voice of the captain, “that’s enough. You’re fading fast.”
I can’t answer. I can’t risk breaking my focus. My head lolls back, and Jace catches it in his leather-gloved hands.
“Serena, checkpoint. Now!” he barks, grasping at my face.
I call to mind the checkpoint closest to the island. I can make it. I know I can. I focus on the map in my head—on the red dot.
The shadows shift as soon as my mind does. I squeeze Jace for support, and he holds me upright against him as my limbs start to fall asleep.
“Serena,” he growls my name, his fingers digging into my skin. “Stay with me.”
Solid ground meets my feet the second before I lose all muscle control and drop like a ragdoll. Jace is there, easing me to the ground in his arms. He kneels with my back draped across his thighs, his arms bracketing my waist.
“Hey, hey!” he shouts, panic rising in his tone. “Stay with me, little witch. Come on.” He holds my face, shaking me lightly. It takes a moment before I can speak. My hands and arms regain feeling before anything else, and I lift my hand to Jace’s wrist. He scans over me, concern marring his angelic face.
“Talk to me,” he whispers, shaking his head. Dark hair spills across his forehead. “Say something.”
“I could have made it,” I croak. He lets out a long breath.
“Stubborn little witch,” he murmurs, his thumb skimming over my cheek. I try to sit up and am hit with a wave of dizziness as I clutch my head.
“Easy.” Jace’s hands are at my back.
I turn from him sharply, crawling on all fours to put some distance between us. I only make it a foot away before I vomit across the rough stone beneath me. Jace scrambles toward me, pulling my low ponytail out of the way as I heave and heave until the dizziness subsides.
When I’m certain there is nothing left to throw up, I drag myself a few feet away from my mess and collapse face-first onto the cool stone. The uneven surface digs into my cheek, but I couldn’t care less.
“Come on,” Jace says, attempting to lift me.
“No,” I croak breathlessly. “Just let me rest here for a second.”
“Alright.”
My eyes drift shut, and Jace runs his fingers over my head, stroking down the ponytail along my neck and back repeatedly. Calm slowly eddies over me as I relax into his touch.
“You should have some water,” he says after a long time. I manage a small nod. I push myself to my elbows as Jace fishes a canteen out of his pack and unscrews the cap. He lifts the canteen to my lips, and I take in a mouthful, pushing his hand back momentarily so I can spit the water onto the stone, clearing the foul taste from my mouth.
Much better, I sigh.
I take the canteen from his hands and sip slowly, regaining my strength.
Wiping my mouth on the back of my glove, I glance around, extending the canteen back to him. “Where are we?”
“The third checkpoint.”
“Damnit,” I swear, flopping onto my back. He leans over me, resting one hand on the other side of my waist.
