Ilianna dropped a kiss on my cheek, then, with a promise to be back, left.
And that, basically, was the pattern of the next four days. Visitors in between bouts of resting, but no sign of the one person I really wanted to see.
Azriel.
It was deliberate on his part; of that I had no doubt. He'd crossed a line, with me and with death, and there would be a price to pay. Whether by me, or by him, or by us both, I had no idea.
On the fifth day, the doctors declared my werewolf heritage had worked another goddamn miracle and that I was fit enough to go home. That was music to my ears.
I rang Ilianna and arranged for her to pick me up, then climbed out of bed and took a shower. I was clean, dressed, and ready to get the hell away from the hospital and the awareness of death that continuously washed over me, thanks to the presence of the sick and the dying, when a different kind of awareness hit.
Azriel had finally decided to show up.
He appeared on the other side of the room, his arms crossed and his stance easy. And, as usual, his expression gave nothing away. He was holding his emotions—and his thoughts—very much in check.
I studied him for a moment, then said, "What did you do?"
"You know what I did," he replied, voice even. "I made you live."
I snorted softly. "Okay, let me rephrase that. How did you do that?"
He hesitated. "By leashing our energy beings together."
Fear curled through me. A fear unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. "You leashed our beings? As in, forever bound together?"
"Yes."
"So if you die, I die?"