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Shecouldhelp him — she couldhealhim.

Just like she’d healed Tipp.

Sprinting over to them, Kiva battled back a wave of fear and forced herself to remain calm.

“K-Kiva,” Tor said, his emerald eyes clouded with pain beneath his mask.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” she said, using her most soothing healer’s voice. “But this —” She reached shakily for the hilt of the sword. “This is going to hurt a little. Just a bit of a pinch.”

With no further warning, she ripped the blade from his chest.

Tor’s body buckled, his mouth opening in a soundless, agonized scream, and then his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

“Tor?Tor!” Rhess yelled. “Wake up! Kiva,wake him up!”

“He’s better off unconscious,” Kiva said, her hands covering the blood spurting from his wound. “Dammit, I think the blade nicked an artery.”

“You have to help him,” Rhess begged, her voice catching. “Kiva —please.”

In the back of her mind, Kiva marveled that the other girl had slain numerous bodies and was coated in bits of each of them, and yet it was the blood pouring from Torell that was her undoing. He was her best friend, she’d said. Kiva couldn’t help wondering if perhaps he was more than that.

“Hold it together, Rhess,” she said quietly. “And give me some space.”

Throughout all of this, Zuleeka continued to look down at them in muted dread, but Kiva didn’t have time to coddle her sister. Instead, she closed her eyes and reached for her magic. Her grandmother was right — she should have spent time learning how to use it, rather than stuffing it away and relying on it in desperate times only. But hindsight wouldn’t help her right now, not when her brother’s lifeblood was gushing through her fingertips.

“Please,” Kiva whispered, having no idea what she was doing but urging her magic to come forth.“Please.”

And then she felt it. The tingling in her fingers, the burning in her hands, the rush of power leaving her as long-buried intuition kicked in, directing the magic to heal the fatal wound. She opened her eyes to see the familiar golden light flooding into Torell, his blood flowing less and less until it stopped completely, his skin sealing shut. His face was pale, his lips nearly blue, the amount of blood he’d lost concerning but not catastrophic. He would recover, Kiva knew, as her magic began to withdraw, the golden light fading. He would live.

A sob left her, and she wasn’t alone in her relief, with Rhess clutching desperately at Torell.

“Is he —”

“He’s fine,” Kiva said weakly, raising a hand to her suddenly dizzy head. “He just needs to sleep it off.”

As did Kiva. She’d felt equally exhausted after healing Tipp, but she’d been in the middle of a prison riot at the time and hadn’t had the luxury of taking a nap.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t in the position to do so now, either, so she pushed past her lightheadedness and raised her eyes to her sister, wanting to reassure Zuleeka that Tor would be all right.

But Zuleeka wasn’t looking at Kiva. Her eyes were focused on the corner of the warehouse.

With a sick feeling, Kiva turned slowly to follow her sister’s gaze, already knowing what she would find.

Tipp was awake.

And judging by the look on his face, he’d seen everything.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Leaving the unconscious Torell in Rhess’s hands, Kiva approached Tipp, keeping her movements slow.

“You j-just — you justhealedhim,” he breathed, his blue eyes wide, his face white but for the streak of blood coming from his temple. “You w-wereglowing.Y-You havemagic.”

“Not just any magic,” Zuleeka said, having followed Kiva. She removed her Viper mask and declared, “Corentine magic.”

Kiva looked at her sister in horror.

“It’s not like he won’t figure it out,” Zuleeka defended.