She was still dead. How could they?

Will her to life.

The disks. They operated on will. He wore the one she had—the one that transferred health from one wearer to the other.

Will her to life.

Torr took her hand in his and let his love for her flow through him. He slid through every memory of them together, watching himself fall in love with her all over again. When he was angry, she made him smile. When he felt hopeless, she gave him joy and a glimpse of a brighter future. When he was afraid, she gave him a reason to fight through it. If there was even one spark of power in his body that he was able to give her, he would. Whatever she needed, for the rest of their lives—however long or short they might be.

A hot, tingling feeling passed over his spine and down his arms. He felt the disk on his back heat and vibrate. As the sensation grew, his strength seemed to fade.

He crawled onto the bed next to her, afraid that he would topple over if he didn’t lie down. He wrapped his arms around her and felt the heat coming off of the disk she wore.

A huge rush of power gushed from his body. It burned as it passed, wrenching a scream from his chest. He’d never felt anything like it before—painful but right. Hot but sweet.

The longer the energy streamed out of him, the weaker he became. Still, he didn’t try to stop it or slow it down. Whatever the disk wanted from him, it could take. Whatever Grace needed was hers.

He had no idea how long he lay there. All he knew was that he was now too weak to move. He could barely find the strength to breathe. Nearly all of his power was gone, but he used what little he had left to push more energy toward the disk, feeding it.

Finally, all that was left was a tiny trickle of his magic and the erratic beat of his own heart.

He heard a tiny click and opened his eyes. The luceria had locked closed around her throat.

Grace’s eyes flew open. She sucked in a gasping breath.

She was alive. And she was his.

Chapter 35

It took Torr two days to wake up, and in that time Grace barely left his side.

She’d seen the luceria around her throat but still couldn’t believe it was there. Had no clue what it meant. All she knew was that she felt… different.

Powerful.

She stifled all urges to use that newfound sense of power because she knew that the source was Torr and that draining anything from him right now was dangerous. So instead, she resorted to the herbs and roots that she knew to strengthen him.

His physical wounds healed fast. It was the condition of his lifemark that worried her the most. It was nearly bare now, when it had been much more full of leaves the last time she’d seen him.

The need to talk to Brenya churned inside Grace, but the village women said that she was gone—left to regain her strength.

There was no way to know how long she would be gone, but the Athanasian women here guessed it would be weeks, possibly months.

“I need you to wake up, Torr. Come back to me.” She stroked his brow, soaking in the feel of his skin under her hand.

She thought she saw his eyes flutter, but it was hard to tell if it had been real or wishful thinking.

“Can you hear me?” she asked. “I’m right here. Open your eyes.”

This time there was no mistaking it. His eyelids moved. They seemed heavy and sluggish, but he definitely moved.

“Torr.” She made her tone firm, trying to mimic Brenya. “Open your eyes.”

He did, holding them wide. He tried to lurch from the bed, but she held him down.

The fact that it wasn’t even hard to do spoke to just how weak he was.

“Everything’s fine,” she reassured him. “Just lie back.”

He collapsed, panting.

When he’d regained his breath, she helped him drink some juice. The chill of it seemed to wake him up enough to realize where he was.

“You’re okay?” he asked.

“Yes. I don’t know how I survived, though.”

“You didn’t.”

As soon as she heard the words she knew what had happened. Like all of the knowledge Brenya had planted in her head, it burst free, fully formed and easily understood.

She had died. There was no way she could have survived that fall.

“You brought me back to life,” she whispered.

“Brenya did most of the work.”

“That’s why you’re so weak. The disks…” She’d seen that he wore the wrong one when she’d washed him. It was all part of the mystery until now. “You could have died.”

“Nah,” he said with a little grin and a wink. “You’re just a weak human. How hard could it be to restart your engine?”

She crawled on top of him, pinning him down. “Who’s weak now?”

“Give me a few minutes. Maybe a few hours spent in contact with the ground. I’ll be back in fighting shape in no time.”

“It’s not fighting I want to do.”

“No?” he asked, looking more alert and much more interested.

“No. I want to spend about half a year showing you how much I love you.”

“I like where this is going. Tell me more.”

She got close and stared straight into his eyes. “I love you.”

His whole body shuddered beneath her, making her wonder how she ever could have thought him weak. He rubbed his chest and said, “Look at what you’ve done.”

She did, and saw his lifemark had begun to bud again. In a little while, his tree would once again be covered with leaves. His soul was safe from decay now.

She traced the image with her finger, and this time the branches followed where she led, swaying toward her. “How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. Brenya said you’ll never be a Theronai—that you’ll never be able to do more than heal—but you seem pretty damn close to me.”

“I can feel your power. I haven’t tried to use it, but I already know how. It’s calling to me to heal you. It wants to be inside of me.”

He gripped her hips and gave her a hot stare. “My power isn’t the only thing that wants to be inside of you, but it’ll have to wait until I can at least stand on my own two feet.”

“So you’re going to be okay? No lasting side effects from bringing me back to life?”

“None that will matter. As long as I have you, the rest is unimportant. Weakness, scars, pain—none of it matters. I love you, Grace. My life for yours, always and forever.”