I reached for that song with my entire being, and it surrounded me. It comforted me. I sank into it. I sang with it. No, it wasn't music, it was magic. And its power was too much for me. I started to burn.
I screamed and fell to my knees as the magic seared through my human cells. I couldn't hear the Hawk anymore, but I latched onto what he'd said. Focus on Dalsharan—that's what he'd told me to do. So, I opened my eyes to look at the Hawk Lord. But the vision of him lying there, rotting and weak, only horrified me. Then I remembered that the Hawk Soul had told me to see Dal as he had been. I shut my eyes again and imagined Dalsharan whole. Healthy. Safe.
I summoned my memory of the Hawk Lord standing before me, shrugging out of his robe just before he shifted. I saw him lying on his side, staring at me with sharp arousal as he stroked himself, and remembered how he laughed, joy brightening his amazing eyes.
The magic inside me went still, like a hound that had caught a scent. The burning eased as the power pulled inward, gathering in my chest. As it condensed there, knowledge came to me. Just popped into my head. I suddenly knew what to do to heal Dal.
I lurched to my feet and pointed my fistful of soul stones at the rotting warlord. That glittering golden glow surged out of my hand and hit the Hawk Lord in his chest, right over his heart. Dalsharan gasped, his back arching, but didn't open his eyes. The light gathered in his chest as it had in mine, but then spread outward. Within its radiance, flesh regrew and rotted filth burned away. The magic swept over Dal's ruined body like water and in the wake of its wave, honey-brown skin appeared over the thick bulge of muscles.
But I wasn't really seeing the healing take place, not with my eyes. My eyes were still closed. It was the magic that saw Dalsharan made whole. The magic of three fae beasts that pounded in my heart with clawed paws and sharp talons, filled my mind with primal cries, and blasted power through my trembling human body. And then that magic showed me his soul.
I didn't think the Hawk Lord could be any more beautiful than he already was, but his soul—that shining, glorious, ethereal being that lived inside his pretty shell—was the most magical, heart-stoppingly handsome thing I have ever beheld. And it reached a sparkling hand out to me as if it could see me too.
I didn't move and yet, I took that hand. I saw a transparent version of my arm lift out of me like a ghost and reach for Dal. I didn't glow as he did, but he still smiled at me as if I were lovely to look at. He took my hand and drew me closer. My body moved with my soul until I was crouching over his body and his soul was lying back inside him, taking mine with it.
For a second, I balked. I needed my soul, didn't I? But he wasn't taking it, he was giving. Part of his sparkling energy flowed into the hand of my soul—my ghostly hand that he had drawn right into his heart. I felt my phantom fingers close around a seed of light, and when I drew my hand back, I took the seed with me. As my soul settled inside my body, the tiny orb of light—that spark of Dal's soul—surged straight into my heart and absorbed the magic of the trinity of soul stones. Then it blossomed. The power that had threatened to burn me earlier now sang to me once again. A song of acceptance and healing. I fell backward, my body trembling violently, and the song rose to a crescendo that exploded in my mind.
“Dalsharan,” I whispered and died.
Chapter Eleven
Death wasn't so bad. It felt an awful lot like dreaming. But when I opened my eyes, Dalsharan's face was above me. I smiled softly and touched his cheek. His hair was loose and hung around my face like a veil. It looked as if those religious zealots were right; there was a heaven. I wondered why I got to go there. And then I wondered what Dal was doing there. And then I wondered why my cock was getting hard. Is that kind of shit allowed in heaven?
“Ravyn,” Dalsharan whispered my name. His stare slid downward, and he chuckled. “I see that you're feeling better.”
“Dalsharan!” I sat up and my momentum took me into a standing position, and then nearly back to the ground. I waved my arms as I tried to catch my balance.
Dal smoothly got to his feet and steadied me. “You've been through some changes, not the least of which is improved strength,” he said gently. “Sit down, Ravyn.”
“What the fuck?” I looked down at myself and could see every fiber in the fabric of my pants. I grabbed my pants and that's when I noticed my hands. “What the fuck?!” I held up my hands. “What the actual fuck, Dal?” I swung to face him.
And then just stared. Had he gotten more handsome?
“Sit down, Ravyn,” Dalsharan said again. He took the hand that did and didn't look like my hand, and used it to pull me down with him.
“Why is my hand glowing?” I tried to keep my voice calm.
“Your whole body is glowing.” Dal smiled softly. “It will stop soon. At least, that's what I've heard.”
“That's what you've heard?” I leapt to my feet again, and the newly improved muscles in my legs sent me tumbling backward.
Dal shot forward and caught me, going into a half-crouch with me. He sat me up and set his hands on my shoulders. “Take a breath.”
I took a breath.
“Now, let it out.” The Hawk Lord laughed.
I gaped at him again; his laughter was the most beautiful sound in the world.
“Your body will be sensitive for a little while until it grows accustomed to its new...”
“It's new what?” I lifted my hands again, the light was starting to fade, but that only made it easier to see that the scars I had earned from many years of war were gone. My skin looked brand new and as the glow settled completely, I saw that my skin was also paler than it had been. Much paler. “Why am I so damn white?” I demanded.
The Hawk Lord burst out laughing.
“This is not funny. I am not a joke, Dal!”
He stopped laughing and went serious. “No, sweetheart, you're not.”
“Stop calling me sweetheart,” I grumbled. “That's an endearment for a woman.”
Dalsharan laughed again. “Says who?”
“Me.”
“Women call men sweetheart.”
I frowned. “Yeah, that's a good point.” I thought about it. “Okay, fine, you can call me sweetheart. But not in front of the other soldiers!”
Dal lifted a hand as if to make a solemn vow. “Never.”
I nodded crisply. “Go on then.”
“You want me to call you sweetheart again?” He lifted a brow.
“No, I don't want you to call me sweetheart again,” I huffed. “Get over the fucking sweetheart thing, honey snookums. I want you to tell me why I was glowing and why all my lovely scars are gone!”