“But there are paralytic spells…”
“And we both cast them already. They didn’t work. Right now, you need me to get you somewhere safe so I can heal this. Enough, Elea.” His eyes glistened. “Please.”
Blood dripped from my palm onto the ash-covered floor. Some of the last of my people. “Do it.”
“Good. It won’t take me a minute to finish them off.” Rowan rose and turned to face the Fantomes. The mages resembled six crimson-colored statues on the stone floor. Small puffs of ash drifted around them.
Rowan raised his right arm. The veins there glowed with red light.
“No!” A man’s voice sounded from behind us. Both Rowan and I turned to see the ghost of Quinn standing by the back wall. “We’ll do it.”
My brows lifted. “You’ll accept a partial possession?”
“Yes.” He gestured behind him, and five more spirits stepped out of the ashes. “I can’t stand by and watch some the last of our people die. You were right, Elea. We all deserve one last chance.” He focused on me, his transparent eyes still bright. “We’ll see what we can find out and report back.”
“Thank you.” Speaking only sent a fresh spike of agony into my side. “Be sure to—” I hissed in a pained breath.
Rowan held me closer. “Don’t speak. I know what you would order them.” He turned to Quinn. “Remember, erase all memory of us and this battle. They never saw Elea or me. And keep it to a partial possession. Do you understand?”
Quinn nodded, straightened his shoulders, and stepped into the first Fantome. The strangled sound of a scream rang through the air, followed by absolute quiet. My body became boneless with relief as I leaned into Rowan’s hold.
Quinn had done it. He’d possessed the first Fantome.
One by one, the other spirits stepped into the mages. More muffled cries sounded, followed by silence. When it was all done, Rowan raised his hand once more. “Release!”
The red scales that had covered the Fantomes vanished. The mages all blinked and looked around, like sleepwalkers awakening from a dream. None of them appeared to notice Rowan and me. Without another word, the Fantomes marched from the room.
I wanted to thank Quinn and Rowan, but the words stayed trapped in my throat. Pain burned through my body until it was all I could think about. My mind clouded over with agony, and the world faded into darkness.
Chapter Twenty-One
In my dreams, I returned to the Zelle Cloister, the place where I’d trained to become a Grand Mistress Necromancer. It was nighttime, and I lay curled on my small cot in the far corner of the Sisters’ dorm. My thin blanket had frozen solid around me. Every inch of my body shivered from the cold.
I peeped over the edge of my bed. The long stone room lay empty. Where were all my Sisters? One by one, their beloved and wrinkled faces seemed to smile at me from the shadows. How I longed to see them again. Sadly, every time I thought I caught their eye, they’d completely disappear. My heart cracked with grief. The silence turned so absolute my ears began to ring.
I’d never felt more alone.
A dream version of Rowan materialized at my bedside. Despite the dim light, I could clearly make out his tall frame, loose brown hair, and bare chest. He wore his leather pants and nothing else. I reached out and grabbed his hand.
“Cold,” I whispered.
“I don’t understand.” His voice was a gentle rumble. “I cast a spell to keep you warm.” He sat down beside me and pulled up my thin blanket. “Your wound doesn’t look infected, either.”
My teeth chattered harder as I pulled him toward me. “Cold!”
Rowan’s rugged features turned unreadable. “You want me to sleep with you?”
I moved back and made room for him. In some corner of my mind, I thought I should worry about the other Sisters. What if they showed up to see a stranger here? Then, I thought better of it.
Let them find their own man to warm their bed.
I patted the open stretch of bed beside me. There was a long speech I wanted to say—something about mages protecting each other—but my dream wouldn’t let me get it out. Instead, I could only repeat one word. “Cold.”
Rowan gave me one of his crooked smiles, and I knew I’d won. He slipped into the cot and pulled me against his side. Cuddling against him, I discovered something very important. Rowan’s body was the most comfortable place ever. My entire being filled with warmth and contentment.
What a lovely dream.
I opened my eyes to find the familiar lines of my tavern room. My sleepy thoughts slowly adjusted to my surroundings. Everything was as it should be.
Threadbare rug.
Shabby wooden door.
Small table with a pitcher and washbasin.
And an unclothed man in my bed.
Wait. What?
I raised my head for a better view. Indeed, it was true. My cheek was resting on a wide, bare, and very male chest. Shock vibrated down my spine. This wasn’t just any naked man, either.
It was Rowan.
In my tavern room.
Wearing naught but his leather pants.