Page 72 of Spirit Storm

It’s not the deep, forever kind of love we might share one day, but it’s love all the same. I know his heart, and he’s a good man.

The kind of man who would train me and keep me safe even when he hated my mother and blamed her for killing his mom.

The kind of man who would take the hit in battle to spare someone else without hesitation.

The kind of man who dedicates his spare time to working with struggling witches at Arcana.

He has a strong, giving, nurturing spirit, and there’s nothing Tharuzel can do to that spirit that I can’t heal.

Because even in a world where crappy things happen and bad people take advantage, the good guys get to win. They have to. It’s why we fight the fight.

I pour all of my intention into closing that gaping wound in his spirit and into healing the pathway of the flow of energy. Light replaces dark. Vitality replaces void. And in the end, the flow of his natural essence is restored.

When I ease my hands away from his chest, the threads of his spirit have knit back together, woven across the empty space, filled it in with something new.

Something that glows faintly silver-blue but is merged with the lush green of summer leaves.

My magic. My love. Woven permanently into the fabric of who he is. I open my eyes and ease back.

Wylder is staring at me, his emerald green eyes glossy and filled with emotion.

"Are you all right?"

"Better." His voice is rough. “You are incredible, you know that?”

I smile, shaky. "You'll always have a piece of me with you now. Whether you like it or not."

His hand slides in beside my neck and he pulls me close. "I like it."

The kiss we share is slow and deep, and impossibly gentle. I melt into it, into him, into the warmth and certainty that he offers after years of emptiness and of not knowing where I belong.

A notification chimes from my laptop.

He groans. "You've got to be kidding me."

I twist around to look at the screen without climbing off his lap. The notification preview glows on the dark background.

Re: Descendant of the Nine

My heart jumps. I scramble off Wylder and drop back into my chair, yanking the laptop closer. “It’s a response to my email.”

"Already?" Wylder leans forward. "We just sent that."

"I did stress that it was urgent." I click the email open, my pulse hammering in my throat.

The message is short.

I have no interest in getting involved with demons or the people who let them onto this plane. I heard what happened to Henrik. Do not contact me again.

I stare at the screen, and the disappointment lands heavy and cold in my stomach.

"Well, shit."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“We don’t know who or what the key is. We have no idea where Tharuzel is or where he’ll strike next. We don’t know how many lockstones there are. Or how close we are to demon domination.”

Asher, Wylder, Rowan, and Orion all blink at me from around the table.