Page 133 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

But gods… barely.

My hands were still stained red as I pulled back to stare at him, the blood from my wrist mingling with his on the sheets. Zander’s breathing was steady now, shallow, but even. His face was still pale, but some of the deathly edge had faded from his skin.

He was alive.

And it wasn’t enough.

My chest ached, the pressure building so fast I couldn’t breathe. My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out everything, except the rage, the fear, the echo of Kaelith’s voice in the back of my mind.

He would have died without you,she said.But you did it. You saved him.

But I didn’t feel like I had. I felt like I was unraveling.

Someone had slipped past the guards.

Someone had bled him in his own bed.

And I hadn’t been there.

Magic surged in me like a second heartbeat, sharp and wild. I tried to swallow it down, to shove it back into the space where I kept it buried, but it clawed free, crackling beneath my skin, burning behind my eyes.

I staggered back from the bed, hands shaking, blood still dripping from my wrist.

Ashlyn,Kaelith warned, her voice tight now.You need to reel it back—now.

But I couldn’t.

The dresser rattled, and outside, the sky flashed with pale, jagged light. Thunder boomed so loudly it shook the castle walls, and the wind howled like something alive.

I gasped, falling to my knees beside the bed, clutching my hands to my chest as the storm built in me.

Kaelith!I reached for her across the bond, desperate for the grounding, the cool, calm effect of her mind.

But she pulled back.

You must learn to control it, Ashlyn,she said, sorrow and strength braided into her tone.I am not ready to anchor. You have to be stronger than your fear.

Lightning cracked again, this time closer, too close, and my breath hitched, my vision blurring.

I curled forward, trembling, trying to pull the storm back into myself.

Trying to become small.

Because the storm inside me wasn’t just magic.

It was grief.

I lay on the cold floor, chest heaving, fingers digging into the stone as the storm inside me cracked and clawed against the walls of my skin.

My blood still sang with magic, raw and uncontained. I could barely think, barely breathe?—

Until his hands slid around my waist.

Warm. Solid. Alive.

“Ashlyn,” Zander whispered against my ear, his voice rough with exhaustion but reassuring. “You need to calm down. Let the power go. You don’t need it anymore.”

His voice… anchored me. Not like Kaelith’s iron presence. Not like my squad’s loyalty. His was different, something that threaded through my ribs and stilled the chaos in my lungs.