Page 162 of Ashborne Phoenix

‘I love you, Grace. So much.’

‘I love you, too.’

We squeezed each other.

I could barely breathe, but I wanted him to hold me tighter.

I was vaguely aware of whispered words, low voices, then the click of the door that left the room in silence around us. And I breathed more deeply, nestling my face under his jaw and clinging as hard as I could.

‘Do you hurt?’

‘Yes, but it’s not too much. They gave me herbs. They make me want to sleep.’

‘You should sleep. I won’t let go. I’ll stay here—unless you want me to leave—’

‘No!’

‘Then just rest. I’ll remain. I’ll be here when you wake.’

‘I don’t want to be apart. I need you.’

A low, tortured groan broke in his throat and I heard his breath catch. He dropped his head back against the wall, and when I lifted mine to look at him… He stared at the ceiling, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His arms around me were steel bars. The most comforting and reassuring steel.

“Voski?”

He didn’t drop his chin, but his eyes rolled down to meet mine and we stared at each other.

Tears still trickled down my cheeks. Pain still echoed through my body, despite the herbs. But none of it mattered when he looked at me like that.

“She told me,” he croaked. “About the baby. I already knew. But… but I guess I hoped because it still…” I tensed, and he held me more tightly. Swallowed again. “It… it hit something inside me. But right now all I can think is that I’m so glad you’re here. Terra thinks you’ll heal, and that’s what matters. I’m just so glad you’re safe.” Then he lifted a hand to my face and stroked my cheek with his thumb. “But I’m also scared, Grace. Are you scared?”

I nodded. “But not as much when you’re with me.”

He blew out a breath and his brow furrowed. “Me too. And I want you to know that even when I’m scared, I’m here. I’m with you. I’m for you. Whatever comes… you don’t have to face it alone. I won’t run. Ever. I never want to. Not anymore. Do you believe me?”

I nodded, because I did. “I love you, Voski.”

“I love you… so much more than you can know, Grace.”

But he was wrong. Because I could feel him. As he pulled me back in, tucked me into his chest and curled himself around me, I could feel every little rush of warmth, and relief, and love. And I wallowed in it. Sank in, let it saturate me. And finally, I rested in it.

Yet, the moment I let go—opened my hands and let all that fear, and hurt, and grief pour out—Voski clung, squeezing me until I couldn’t breathe, I still sobbed. I wept. I grieved.

For long minutes, I felt his alarm, his frantic desperation. The need to help, and his fear at not knowing what to do.

But still he held me, and something beautiful happened.

He rested his head on mine, whispering his love and stroking my back and hair as I choked, and sobbed, and wept… and deep in my chest the pain of everything that had happened ignited like fire. A fire that flared in the cord that linked us. The bond.

And in it, the dragons as well… not speaking. But being. As if their hearts sang the way they did when they lifted their heads to the skies to sing grief.

I tensed at that sense of shared sadness, afraid it might overwhelm me, and leave me destroyed. But as my tears and my pain roared through that cord to Voski’s heart, his raced back to me, and the dragons embraced us both… we held together.

All of us.

When Voski’s pain and uncertainty hit my heart, I held it—because the dragons held me. And it eased. When mine overwhelmed me, he embraced it, and took my burden.

Back and forth, back and forth… fear, grief, anger, fury, uncertainty, confusion, and sadness as deep as the skies… all of it rose and fell between us, like tides washing on the shores of his heart, then sucking back to mine, breaking in waves over me, until the tide shifted again…