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I ’ d really grown tired of waking up with no concept of how much time I’d lost. Everything felt stiff and my thoughts were

muddled—that much I could tell—but at least I was waking up. I shifted beneath smooth sheets as I peeled open my eyes. My

room was quiet, the curtains drawn. A mug with an empty vial beside it sat on my nightstand, and as I propped myself up on

my elbows to get a better look, I found there wasn’t any liquid left to be had. An incessant scratch tickled my throat, and

I spied a pitcher of water a few feet away on the dresser.

“Of course,” I grumbled, eyeing the distance. As comfortable as the sheets were, though, the idea of quenching my thirst was

more enticing. Bracing myself with a long breath, I prepared for an onslaught of pain as I forced myself to move. And found

none. Frowning, I sat upright in bed and swung my feet over the side, surprised by the ease of the movement. I wiggled my

toes. My fingers. Rotated my wrists and stretched my neck from side to side. Nothing. Gingerly, I stood. The world stayed

on its axis. Nothing happened.

Unease wound through me. How long had I been out? Immediately, the need for water was tabled as Noam and Nohr surfaced in my mind. If I was this healthy after curing blight . . . It could’ve been months. Months. I spun toward the door and made it halfway before Vora strode into the room. She paused, took one look at my panicked expression,

and then rolled her eyes.

“It’s been a week. They’re still alive.” She set down a tray of food on the coffee table before moving to the curtains. With

a forceful yank, she thrust them open. “I’d hoped you’d sleep longer.”

“A week is plenty long.” My gaze bounced between her and the door. Alive.

“Yes, well, you didn’t see you.” Vora snatched the pitcher of water and strode to the nightstand, snagging the mug and filling

it with practiced ease. She handed me the drink. “I thought you were dead.”

I drained the water in one fell swoop and held it out for her to refill. “That bad?”

She nodded. “Cold as the night. Drenched in sweat. Barely any pulse.”

“And Zota?”

“Is that all you’re concerned about right now? Honestly.” She filled my glass and then set the pitcher down with more force

than necessary. “Zota is fine. Cured. Orin was beside himself. Giddy as a young boy.”

Her flat voice did little to sway the building excitement in me. “I knew I could do it.”

“But at what cost?” Vora turned away and headed for the coffee table, where she arranged a small plate of bread, cheese, and

meat and gestured for me to sit. “I cannot stress enough how bad your condition was.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” I sank onto the settee and picked up the plate. A ravenous hunger gnawed at my insides, and I shoved

a thick piece of sourdough bread into my mouth.

“That’s because I drugged you.” She didn’t bat an eye. “I used a mixture of your tinctures and Ever medicine to brew a sleeping aid to keep you under.”

My tinctures. I chewed slowly, wondering what blend of medicine I would need to keep on hand if I intended to cure more people of blight.

“What did you use?”

“Valerian, lavender, one of your vials titled ‘slumber.’ At least your naming conventions are clear. And then some rare herbs

and magic to mix it all together.”

I’d have to get a list of those rare herbs at a later date. “Thanks.”

Her eyes narrowed as she watched me eat. “Don’t thank me. It was my lord...” She winced as if the phrase had tumbled from

her lips by accident before continuing. “He insisted you stay under for your own safety. And to keep anyone from demanding

you threadmend again too soon.”

Orin. Heat bloomed in my chest. “Who else knows about Zota?”

“Everyone does.” She pursed her lips. “If they knew you were awake, they’d—”

It was as if that very thought summoned him, and Orin quietly opened the door to peek his head into the room. He stilled when

he saw me sitting beside the unlit fire, food in hand, and then beamed. He was by my side in an instant, and I was overcome

by the boyish charm of his features, the sheer excitement in his endless green eyes.

“Edira,” he murmured.

My name was breathless on his lips, and my heart skipped a beat. “Hi.”

“Leave us,” Orin said to Vora without breaking eye contact with me. He’d kneeled before me and clasped my knees with his hands,

and damn if I didn’t feel like a queen. Like someone worthy of this devotion and admiration. I set aside my food and placed

my hands over his. Squeezed them tight.

Vora pursed her lips. “Orin, I don’t think—”

“ Lord Orin,” he cut in quickly, his grip tightening on me a sliver. My brows crept together. He caught me staring, and his expression

softened. “Apologies, Vora. I’ve been on edge waiting for Edira to wake. Can we please have some privacy?”

“Of course,” Vora said. She hesitated for a beat, and remorse flickered through her eyes. I barely had a chance to glimpse

it before she hid it away behind a dutiful facade of obedience. While I couldn’t fathom why such sadness had marred her face,

especially in the wake of my recent discovery, it stuck with me. It was a splinter worming beneath my skin that lodged itself

deep in my muscles, just out of reach. I frowned at her back as she left, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

“Are you all right?” Orin cupped my face, and I brought my gaze back to him. Back to warmth and joy and hope. It was enough

to burn away the doubt Vora had seeded, and I settled into his touch.

“I did it.”

His eyes twinkled. “I know. Edira, you... you are incredible. Tell me everything.”

And I did. I told him about what I’d witnessed with Ywena—who had yet to return, likely thanks to Orin demanding I rest—and

how I’d applied that theory to my own magic. How I stitched Zota’s blight into my body and drew it in, cleansing the sickness

from his threads. How I’d nearly slipped into oblivion, but still managed to pull myself back. I told him how beautiful Zota’s

threads were.

“And soon Mavis’s, too,” I said quietly as I met his gaze. “And Noam’s and Nohr’s. I can’t wait to talk to them again.”

“And you will.” Orin’s full-blown smile had me melting into him, and he chuckled as he pulled me into his arms. He felt so

safe and warm, and I nuzzled his neck.

He lifted me with ease and carried me to bed, tucking me against his side. “I think I’ll ask them about the time you attacked that child in defense of Noam.” Mirth filled his eyes as he stroked my cheek. “I’m dying to know what they thought of their sister in that moment.”

I rolled my lower lip into my mouth as I grinned. “They’ll probably say I was out of line.”

“So volatile,” he murmured. He rested his forehead against mine. “You and I have that in common.”

“Oh?” I rubbed my nose against his. “How so?”

His exhale was warm against my lips. “In that moment, all you wanted to do was protect your own. You were consumed by this

desire to act. I know it because I feel it every time I look at my grandmother. I’m so afraid she’ll die that sometimes I

just lose myself.”

My chest tightened with emotion, and all at once I understood. That shared look of hunger in his family’s eyes stemmed from

their fear of death. From the fear of losing someone they cared for with every fiber of their being. It was the same way I

felt when I checked on my brothers.

“I understand.” With light fingers, I grazed the length of Orin’s jaw, then ghosted them over his lips. He pressed featherlight

kisses against each finger, and a growing warmth flickered to life in the pit of my belly. I angled his mouth to mine.

He kissed me gently, his hands palming the sides of my face, and I parted my lips to let his tongue slide in. A low groan

thrummed from the back of his throat. Orin tipped my head back and deepened our kiss as my entire body arched toward him.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for a week,” he said softly, keeping his mouth poised over mine.

Chills raced down my arms. “Good thing you don’t have to wait any longer.”

Before he could say anything else, I kissed him hard. I swallowed his words and gave no room for argument. He hesitated for only a breath, and then he answered with a fire that sent pleasure racing through my veins. He wrapped his fingers in my hair and gave a heavenly tug. The only thing that mattered was the hungry scrape of his teeth against my lips, his tongue melding with mine. A heady warmth brewed between my legs, and I swear to the gods he could tell. Something fierce and wild simmered from the back of his throat, and he eased over me. His hands slipped beneath my loose, thigh-length sleeping gown, teasing the soft skin of my abdomen and the hemline of my undergarments.

“Orin,” I managed through a heavy groan.

“Are you well enough?” he asked, his hand palming my breast. It was all I could focus on. I should’ve been depleted and weak,

but Vora’s concoction and Orin’s want filled me with a vigor like I’d never known. Now, all I desired was him. And I wouldn’t

be satisfied until I had it.

“I am,” I whispered.

“Do you remember when I told you that I get what I want?” Heat ravaged his gaze, and he pressed bruising kisses against my

neck. My collarbone. The top of my cleavage. Shivers raced down my spine.

“Yes,” I managed. He did things to my senses that defied all logic.

His words were more of a growl as he deliberately dragged his lips across my skin, stopping at the shell of my ear. “I want

you.”

I turned and caught his mouth with mine, inviting him in and dragging my fingers down his back. Nothing else was said between

us. He unbuttoned his shirt and removed his clothes with aching slowness and a wicked, self-assured smile. And then he shredded

my gown and yanked off my underthings. The raw desire in his stare set light to a wildfire across my skin, and every inch

of me burned to be touched by him.

And he didn’t deny me. His tongue traced the length of my body, sparking a deep-seated desire that ached to be relieved. His mouth consumed me in a way I’d never been devoured before, and when he finally pressed his lips to my crease, my hips bucked into him. He licked, and my back arched as delicious pleasure raced through my spine. A guttural moan escaped from somewhere deep in my chest.

He pushed me to the edge of oblivion with that glorious tongue of his, and my entire world narrowed to the feel of his breath,

the warmth of his exhale. As I let out another whimper, he looked up at me without stopping, and then he drove two fingers

deep into my core.

“Fuck,” I cried, rhythmically grinding against him, begging him to move faster. Deeper. He did no such thing. Instead, he

slowed his pace and abandoned my clit, biting at the soft flesh of my hips. I was about to combust if he didn’t give me what

my body so clearly needed. I rolled beneath him, trying to shift his attention back to my obvious craving, but all he did

was chuckle.

Only when he was satisfied with my writhing want did he finally shift. Crawling up my body to position himself over me, he

stole my breath with his lips and swallowed my moan. His impressive length, velvet smooth and yet harder than granite, slipped

along my crease. Painfully, sinfully slow. I watched with rapt fascination as he slid through my folds, trying and failing

to angle my hips to drive him in.

And then he sheathed himself in me. I barked out a curse as he held himself there, letting me adjust, and then began thrusting

in earnest. Brilliant, wondrous pain shifted to pure longing as we moved in unison, a tangled mess of limbs and heat. I lost

all sense of myself as he wrenched pure desire from somewhere deep in me, someplace I never knew existed.

“I want you to let go,” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly. His words were an added layer of pleasure, and the coil of need in the pit of my belly wound tighter in anticipation. A glimmer of magic coursed through his eyes as he pushed in deeper, and suddenly thin, wispy clouds stretched over us. Stars drizzled from them in a lazy, winking descent. Each tiny particle of magic was bloated with his power, with his passion, and their gossamer touch against my skin was more like a bolt of unfiltered desire straight to my bones. I was enveloped in the sensation of his want, and it did me in completely. I shattered around him, and he let out a roar that felt like a claim. His release followed mine, and for a moment we simply remained joined together. With his head pressed against my forehead, he gazed into my eyes and smiled. Softly. Lovingly. Slowly, he rolled to the side and pulled me against his chest.

“That was...” I could hardly think of the words. They hadn’t been written into existence. Nothing could explain the way

he’d made my body feel.

He chuckled, drawing idle circles on my back as he stared up at the rafters. “I know.”

My skin tingled as another flurry of stardust settled against my arms. Already want began to stir in my belly. “I’m a fan

of this magic.”

“I am, too.” He held out his hand, and a few particles landed in his palm. Visible gooseflesh trailed down his arm, and I

tracked its progression until I spied the Fernglove crest on his neck.

With gentle fingers, I traced the broken sword and insects, then stilled when a sudden flare of icy cold nipped at the tip

of my finger, right at the blade’s severed point. It was there and gone in a flash, and I flinched without thinking. Magic?

Maybe, but it hadn’t felt like Orin’s power. He was warmth. Summer rain and spring flowers. This was sharp, like the chilled

bite of a freezing winter night.

Orin turned to frown at me. “Everything all right?”

“Yes, must’ve just been a spasm.” I flexed my fingers. Gently, I resumed my tracing of his tattoo, feeling nothing but warm,

sweat-slicked skin.

His hand clasped mine before I could reach the tip of the sword again. “Promise?”

I hated the look of doubt, of worry, so soon after our lovemaking. Extracting my hand from his grasp, I smoothed his brow

and chased away the canyons forming across his forehead. I let my fingers wander through his hair and gave his locks a gentle

tug. Then I kissed his lips. Deeply. When I felt his tension loosen and his hands gripped my waist, I pulled back. “See? Everything

is fine.”

“Good.” He kissed me again, and I gave way to his touch. His magic, his presence—everything about him stole the very breath

from my lungs. We made love again, leisurely, tenderly, and I lost track of the hours. Of how many times I moaned his name.

I reveled in the sensations he coaxed from my body and in the way that he made me feel wanted. In all my previous dalliances,

I’d never been so lavished in affection. I wanted to lose myself for as long as he’d allow, until we were fully sated and

our energy exhausted.

When the last of his magic dispersed, he pressed a light kiss to the crown of my sweat-dampened hair. “You make it difficult

to want to do anything else with my time.”

“I fail to see how that’s a problem.”

He laughed, and the sound echoed through my bones. “It’s not. Or rather, it won’t be as soon as we get this place back in

order.”

Right. The blight. My brothers. Mavis. Nuzzling my head against his neck, I sighed. “I’d like to try and cure my brothers

first. If that’s all right.”

Our bargain hadn’t dictated who I had to threadmend first, Mavis or them. Had Orin’s hands not been resting against the small

of my back, I might not have felt the subtle twitch of his fingers. He watched me closely, his features stiff. The smile he

wore was hard, as if it’d been hammered into place by words.

“If my recovery rate stays the same, I’ll have Mavis cured in no time.” Unease made my tongue loose as I fought to reassure him. “My brothers just don’t have as long. You know how quickly blight works against mortals. It’s been progressing faster and faster. The last few times I visited them, I found more signs of illness. And you said yourself you didn’t know how long your magic would hold.”

He pressed a finger to my mouth, effectively silencing me. “Edira. It’s fine. I was thinking of your health. If you’re in fact well enough to try.”

Oh. I rolled my lower lip into my mouth as I lowered my gaze. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He slipped a finger beneath my chin and pulled my focus to him. There was a sadness to his

smile that softened his features and properly chastised me for rushing to conclusions. I nodded, and he brushed a strand of

hair away from my face. “Get some rest. We’ll see how you feel in the morning.”

He planted a gentle kiss on my cheek and then slipped out of bed. I blinked at the sudden absence of his presence, at the

cool nip of air against my skin, and I pulled the sheets tight around my chest. “You can’t stay?”

“If I do, you won’t sleep.” He shot me a smirk as he pulled on his pants.

“Again, I fail to see how that’s a problem.”

“Edira.” He came back to the bed and leaned over me. Just the nearness of him, of his glorious bare chest, was enough to make

my mouth water. “Rest. You’re still human. Give your body a break.”

I’d never wanted to be an Ever more than in that moment. In fact, I’d never really thought about being immortal at all. But

the idea of recuperating faster, of living longer... Suddenly I was all too aware of my shortened lifespan and the few

opportunities I’d have to enjoy what I’d just unearthed with Orin.

I didn’t want to die. Not yet. Not anytime soon.

Orin placed one last kiss on my forehead before bidding me good night. I hadn’t realized how much time we’d spent together. One look out the windows, though, confirmed it was already late. I’d gained so much in the span of a handful of hours, and already the day was lost. And I only had so many left. A chill trickled through my limbs as I watched Orin close the door behind him.

You’re still human. Lucky me. I blew out a frustrated breath. I couldn’t bring myself to sleep just yet. I moved toward the attached bathroom,

stopping by my apothecary cases to snag a few salts and oils, and then made for the claw-footed tub. I’d do as Orin said.

Rest. Recuperate. Give my body a break. And then, when the morning came, I’d see to my brothers.

A smile tugged at my lips as the water began to fill before my eyes. I couldn’t wait to show Noam and Nohr all the things

I’d accomplished. I couldn’t wait to show them what I’d become.