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In the subsequent quiet, the clangs and crashes of magic become deafening. His blood continues flowing into me, rich, thick, and warm. Mine leaving me, earthy, with echoes of a thousand herbs.

Nicostratus shouts and I whisk around; he’s luring the lead wyvern closer.

I cut off the spells and immediately ready the royal blood for reversal.

Quin captures my shoulder as I rise, squeezing through my shakiness. His gaze steels my stomach with determination.

“If you dare die on me, Cael,” he says, voice edged with steel but betraying a flicker of something, “I’ll drag you back, just to behead you myself!”

“Charming,” I mutter, fingers trembling. “Royal blood and empty threats. How could anyone resist?”

The pack leader’s shriek pummels around us in waves. Giant wings flap at thinning shields.

“Can’t get any closer,” Nicostratus grunts.

I try, but the leader moves too wildly. A dozen feet too far. Even if I do manage a link between us, if it breaks halfway through, the transfusion will fail. I need—

Hands curl around my hips and I fall back against Quin’s chest as he thrusts us upwards, forceful winds pillowing us.

“I’ll hold you steady,” he says at my ear. “Deliver the spell.”

“You’ve lost too much blood.” I’m already forming the tubing spell. “You’ll exhaust yourself to death.”

“Get on with it.”

I aim at the underside of the wing, where it meets the body. Nicostratus’s shield is an obstacle, but I needle through it and—

The shimmering line tightens. The wyvern’s pulse drums into me.

“Keep him from splashing,” I call to Nicostratus. I can smell his sweat from here, sense the weakening of overspent muscles.

Quin is also fatigued. I feel the dampness of his skin, the shuddering vibrations of his limbs, the rasp of his breath into my hair.

His blood flows from me, a stinging suction, pulling all the warmth from my veins. Cold, colder. Nicostratus and the wyvern blur. I see double. Shake my head.Concentrate.

I cough, chest so hollow.

Dizzy.

King’s blood. Need to transfer. Every ounce.

Faster. Nicostratus and Quin are swaying.

I force the blood with a spiritual shove—

My breath fogs, mingling with his.

A blurring curtain rises. Unyielding, merciless.

But through it is the faint but steady pulse of Quin’s heartbeat at my back.

I focus on it until it’s the only thing I’m aware of.

Until even that disappears.

I’m lying on something soft.

My eyelids are heavy.