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At her side, Marisol’s face was pale, her breath shallow, her massive spectral wings on shocking display while her mouth moved soundlessly. All Zuri could hear was the deafening echo of Lilith’s voice—begging her to help Marisol but failing to say how—until her vision turned black.

Chapter Thirty-Two

You are not goingto lose your mind. Elena flung another shitty knife at the target across the room. By Zuri’s account, she’d been away from her life for barely a week. That was nothing. An inconsequential amount of time.

And her progeny were probably looking for her. Sofia and Librada. Despite Zuri’s obvious opinion to the contrary, she could trust them. If they weren’t hidden behind Zuri’s wards… and if she’d always kept this sanctuary her secret… she was sure they’d already have come for her.

She flung another knife. At least her aim was improving, she thought bitterly. Rage was bubbling under her skin, threatening to set her on fire. She’d never needed anything but her fangs in her second life. Never needed to hone any other skill than her bite.

But there she was, practicing how to defend Zuri and Marisol from attack with cheap stainless steel. What was she if she wasn’t her unquestionable power? If she wasn’t fierce and terrifying, capable of eviscerating anyone who even looked at who was hers?

She reached for another knife before finding she’d gone through them all. Again.

Closing her eyes, she rested her head on the pillow that smelled like Zuri and made her chest ache. Jaw tight, she let out a primal scream inside her mind.

“Elena!”

The sound of Marisol’s frantic scream, dripping with heart-stopping fear, sent Elena scrambling. Icy terror clenched Elena’s chest while she looked for anything that could help her get to her feet.

She was bracing herself against one of the bed posts, throwing all her weight to her right side and dragging herself toward the wound of Marisol’s voice when she stopped short.

Wings transparent and spread out so far behind Marisol, Elena might have been relieved that she was running into the room to fix her. But then Elena’s nostrils were flooded with Marisol’s fear.

“I can’t wake her up.” Marisol’s eyes were so wide and broadcasting the full scale panic in her body.

“Take me to her,” Elena demanded after scanning Marisol for signs of injury and allowing a moment of relief when she didn’t find any. “Where is she?—”

Marisol’s hand on her arm was a jolt of pure energy. It wasn’t like the subtle warmth of her touch before. This was a tidal wave, raw and untamed, surging through Elena’s body. She gasped, her muscles spasming and dropping her to her knees, her senses overloaded.

“Elena, what’s wrong? What did I do?” Marisol cried.

Unable to respond, the pain in Elena’s hip, a constant throbbing ache, flared with searing intensity before receding and leaving behind a tingling numbness. She couldn’t breathe until the nothingness was replaced by a flood of heat, a sense of wholeness she hadn’t experienced since before the attack.

Her legs, heavy and unresponsive for days, pulsed with life. Getting to her feet, she took a step, then another. There was stilla deficit on her left side, but a limp was nothing like the pain and paralysis that had nearly consumed her.

“Where is she?” Elena roared again, fangs extended and ready to punish whoever had invaded her home.

“Greenhouse,” Marisol managed.

As fast as she’d ever moved, Elena blew the back door off the hinges while she outran her bone-deep panic that something had happened to Zuri.

The sun, half-hidden behind a cloud, was molten lava being poured over her skin. Even as it drained the power she’d only just gotten back, Elena forced herself to move faster. To run until she broke apart. To keep going despite stumbling in mud that she couldn’t stop to cover herself in—an old trick that didn’t work nearly as well as modern methods.

In the greenhouse, Zuri was unconscious but alive. Dropping to her knees and grateful that the shade was allowing her skin to regenerate, Elena focused on the rhythm of Zuri’s pulse. It was slower than usual but normal. She was in a profound sleep, she realized with dizzying relief.

When Marisol ran in a few seconds later, she was panting, face red and expression stricken. Her wings were as prominent as they’d been moments earlier, moving through the doorway and glass like they weren’t there. She kneeled next to Zuri and took her hand.

Expecting Zuri’s eyes to spring open at Marisol’s touch, Elena didn’t let herself be shattered when nothing happened.

“I’ve been trying to wake her up,” she said mid-sob, one transparent wing covering Zuri’s body with incredible tenderness. “She was in my memories and then I don’t know what happened. I shouldn’t have let her?—”

“She overtaxed herself,” Elena explained with so much relief she wanted to lie down on the dirty floor right along with Zuri. To hold both of them in her arms and tell them that theywouldn’t have to worry again. That she’d end any threat that came near them. “She just needs to rest. Let’s get her inside.”

“The sun,” Marisol objected, obviously unsure that Zuri would be okay, but stretching her concern to Elena.

“I’ll be fine,” she promised.

To show her, Elena picked Zuri up off the floor and cradled her close to her body. She hated to see her like that. So still. Zuri was a hurricane. A creature defined by its movement and power. She was never meant to be at rest.