Page 69 of This Shattered Star

I will not die here.

But it never made contact. Strong fingers grasped my fist, halting my swing half-way.

My eyes flew open. A woman with copper hair, glowing like embers under the faint light of the sconces, knelt beside me, smiling softly.

Her fingers squeezed tightly around my own. She reached with her other hand to brush away a fresh tear that raced down my cheek. “It’s okay, Eloise. You can wake up now.”

Walls collapsed. The ceiling spun.

A final, pounding headache gathered in my temples, and then I began to fall. Aimlessly—limbs flailing, unable to grasp anything but darkness. I couldn’t so much as reach for enough air to scream.

Down the void I fell.

And fell.

And fell.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Gusts of air forced their way down my lungs like I’d been robbed of it for years, my chest rising and falling so rapidly it was almost painful.

A deep voice rumbled against my back. “Easy, love.”

It triggered a bubbling sensation deep within the lower parts of my stomach. I barely had time to process who it belonged to before that bubbling soared up my throat, sending the contents of my stomach splattering onto the floor.

Ever so slowly, the blots of color dotting my vision cleared, while my lungs continuously fought to capture enough air. Battling against the tightness relentlessly threatening to crush them.

Warmth, a solid force, surrounded me. Kept me sitting upright.

Someone’swarmth, I realised, knocking my boot against theirs. I could feel the hardness of their collarbone behind my head.

Pressure around my middle eased, then steady hands were rubbing reassuring lines down the length of my forearms. It took all but a moment for me to realize exactly who I sat against, their scent of pine and petrichor, the calm after a storm, still strong despite being trapped in this tower.

No smoke. Nothing that hinted of ash. Just him.

“Kodhan.” Panic seized my muscles, but his thighs pressed against my own, pinning my hips in place. “Please,” I gasped.

Surely, he couldn’t have chosen now of all times to end me. I was already injured, weakened by blood loss. I needed to staunch my bleeding, needed to—

Another large gust of air forcefully made its way down my windpipe, distracting me from the rising chaos inside my head.

Stunning amber eyes caught mine, close enough that I could have lost myself in them.

“Breathe, Eloise.”

Brannon. A simple order, and yet, somehow it felt like he’d asked me to hand him my very soul. But I grit my teeth against every inch of my body that worked against me and took another breath.

“That’s it. Good. You’re alive,” he reassured softly, the set of his face hard, but not cruel. Determined. Worried. “You’re alive.” He carefully slipped his hand underneath mine, and gently pried my stiff fingers out of the white-knuckled fist I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

Gone were the burgundy skirts, the silk ribbons. No cuts lined my arm. No pain radiated from my collarbone.

Kodhan’s body tensed as he gently brushed strands of hair out of my face, clearing the rest of my shrouded vision. I wasn’t bleeding. I was alright.

More air, though less forceful this time.

“Keep breathing,” Brannon chastised, but it held nothing a usual scolding would.

It dawned on me then that he was using his magic to remind my lungs how to function. Compensating for their uselessness.