Eyes fluttering back open, Lucian sucked in a ragged breath and held his trembling hands back over her body. There was still entirely too much darkness moving through her, although now it resembled smoke caught in a glass orb more than an inky stain.
“Et quod solum remanebit.”
Lucian fell to the floor, his body spasming like Effie during one of her visions. He had no control over his limbs, the muscles straining as the power filled him. It was too much for one body to contain, even an immortal one. If he did not release it soon, it would kill him.
With a roar, Lucian pushed himself up once more. His limbs continued to quake, but when it came to a battle of wills, Lucian was unmatched. He would not fail her.
This time he could not manage to lift his arms, so instead he rested his palms against her forearm. Head hanging down, Lucian ignored the searing pain and followed Vance’s final instruction. He called an image of Effie to mind. His favorite one.
It was one he had painted many times, although he would never tell her that. It was the night she’d first seen him, when the halus bane had held her in its grasp. She’d stared him down, her eyes all but glowing beneath their sooty lashes. Her chin was jutted up so that she could meet his gaze, allowing her to achieve the effect of looking down her nose at him while he still towered over her. The wind had picked up the heavy mass of her hair, flinging it around her like some kind of golden halo.
She had been an avenging angel.
Fierce.
Fearless.
Perfect.
And she was his. He’d known it even as it terrified him. From that moment on she owned him. What started that night had only grown more potent as they’d gotten to know each other. Each layer she’d revealed after, intentionally or not, only bound him tighter.
He’d gloried in her courageous spirit from the start, but he’d lost himself utterly when faced with her unwavering compassion. She was unmatched. Steel forged from pain and tempered with kindness.
And she . . . was . . . his.
Eyes snapping open, Lucian roared, “Et quod solum remanebit.”
Lucian’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell to the ground in a graceless sprawl. Light was pouring from his body. He could feel wave after wave crashing against him as it filled the room.
There was no telling how much time had passed when Lucian was finally able to reopen his eyes. The room was deathly silent, none of the overwhelming power remaining. Hardly daring to breathe, Lucian called his power up once more, a broken sob escaping when he saw the blinding brilliance that was Effie. The thin strands of onyx threaded throughout did nothing to dilute the radiance of her spirit.
“Effie,” he croaked, barely able to speak. “Fledgling . . .”
A pulse was fluttering in her throat, and her petal pink lips were parted slightly. Body still shaking, Lucian removed all trace of her bindings, pulling her up into his arms and clutching her against his chest.
Raining kisses along every inch of her face he could reach, he continued to brokenly murmur her name. “Please. Open your eyes.”
Pulling back slightly, he stared down into her face. He stopped breathing when her eyelids began to flutter. He was weeping openly when twin pools of the brightest blue blinked up at him.
His heart expanded, the joy almost painful in its intensity, only for her to shatter it completely with her rasping words.
“Who are you?”
Chapter 14
She continued to blink up at him, her eyes wide and guileless. It hurt to look at her, to hold her, but after everything, he couldn’t bear to let her go. Closing his eyes, Lucian tried to bury his emotions somewhere far inside himself. Somewhere deep enough they’d allow him to finish what he’d started.
He’d known this was a possibility. That even after the corruption was removed, there could be lingering effects. He’d been preparing for the eventuality, but he didn’t want to make this choice for her. She may never forgive him.
There was a whisper-soft touch against his cheek, there and gone, and then her tentative voice. “Why are you crying?”
Lucian swallowed and forced his eyes back open. Not sure where to even begin answering that question, he opted for an oversimplified half-truth. “You’ve been very sick, sweetheart.”
Her brows furrowed. “I have?”
Still feeling as though his heart had just been ripped out from inside his chest, Lucian could only manage a nod.
“I don’t feel sick . . .” she murmured.
“I’m glad to hear it, but we still have a little more work to do.”
She seemed content to trust him and was in no hurry to leave the circle of his arms. For that, Lucian was grateful. He didn’t know if he’d be able to comply. His emotions might be in check for now, but tremors were still racing through his body. He was in no state to open up the floodgates of his power once more.
But he had to.
No matter the cost.
Breathing deeply through his nose, Lucian emptied his mind. He’d clearly healed her body, and he’d seen for himself that her essence was intact, but the corruption had stolen something. The only way to determine if he could repair the damage was to figure out the extent of the loss.
“Effie?” he asked.
“Hmm?”
The faintest tendril of relief unfurled within him. She remembers her name, at least. So her mind is whole; that’s something.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Her eyes took on a faraway cast, and she blinked in confusion. “Waking up,” she answered finally.
“Not how you got here? Not who I am? Not the citadel?”
She shook her head, looking apologetic. “Should I?”
Even though his heart screamed yes, Lucian forced himself to smile and reassure her. “It’s just the side effects of your illness.”
“But you can fix it?” she asked. Her voice was so full of trust that it broke whatever pieces of his heart were left.
“Aye, sweetheart, I can fix it.”
“But you don’t want to?” she asked, her lips dipping into a frown. She looked so lost, so small in his arms, but still she managed to see straight through him.
Lucian’s answer was immediate. “Of course I want to. It’s just . . . the treatment is permanent. It should be your decision whether to undertake it or not.”
“Will it give me back my memories?”
Swallowing, Lucian nodded. “It will.”
She was blushing as she admitted, “I think I would like to remember you.”
It hurt to breathe, and it took every ounce of control he had left, but Lucian forced himself not to crush her to his chest.
“We are . . .”—she seemed to struggle for a word—“important to each other. Aren’t we?”
Unable to meet her gaze, Lucian lifted a hand to brush a curl off of her forehead. “What makes you say that?”
“I may not remember your name,”—Effie lifted a hand and rested it against her chest—“but I think I remember you here. I feel . . .” she shook her head, at a loss for words once more.
It might have been selfish but Lucian needed those words. It may be his only opportunity to ever hear them come from her lips. “What do you feel?”
It was her turn to take a deep breath, the words bursting from her in a rush. “Everything. When I opened my eyes and saw your face, it was like coming home. Peace, and warmth, and joy. And then I noticed your tears and that hurt. I-I think the only reason I’d feel those things, and you’d be so upset that I was unwell, is if we meant something to each other.”