If she was pulling it, then clearly she needed it. And if this was some strange by-product of her dying, well, then I didn't really want to be awake without her. Forcing myself to my feet, I staggered closer and took her hand, screaming when my skin sizzled on contact.
"Shit," Ron breathed, his head whipping from side to side. "She's pulling from everything."
"She's not breathing," Bel warned us.
Nick was moving to the far side, up by her head. Without a word - possibly because he couldn't manage to speak right now - he grabbed her face between his hands and roared at the pain. Then he began to do what he could to put her back together.
"She's killing the Vale," Bel realized even as he put his hands on her other leg. "She's pulling at all the aether of this plane!"
"Just like Ayala," I said, the words meant for only me.
But we were all close enough that they heard. Across from me, Ron's brow furrowed and I saw his head tilt slightly, but then his complete focus changed. Determination took over his face, and with one hand holding hers, he slapped the other over her seal.
"She's not burning me," he told us. "She's not draining me. She made my protections, yet she's not going through them." Then he looked up and met my eyes. "Luke, I swear that I will wake our legion if I have to."
Nick heard. "Give her everything," he ordered us.
So we did, and Ron began making his version of a miracle. I couldn't follow what he was doing, not over the pain of my skin burning and my life being pulled out, but it didn't matter. Sia had trained him. She'd shown him how to weave, smith, and sculpt, blending everything she knew into a style that he - and only he - could manage.
But something began to change. At first, I wasn't sure, but it looked almost as if Sia's skin was becoming luminescent. Unfortunately, I couldn't hold myself up anymore. My knees gave out, and I collapsed to the ground, but I kept one hand clenched around hers. The other, I pressed against the bench beside me to hold myself up, feeling the raw skin on my palm.
Bel was growling in his struggle to hold onto her. Sam didn't make a sound, but he pulled one hand away to hold the table, shifting his feet for more balance. Nick's wings were drooping, the fingers seeking something to help keep him in place. All of us were fading, but it was more than that. The vibrant green of the world around us had dimmed to a drab color, reminding me of Oklahoma in the summer. The grass looked dry and brittle. A glance back showed the flowerbeds in front of the cottage wilted as if near death.
The stories of Ayala said that she would drain the worlds of life, and right now, all I could think about was what that meant. Had it been a prediction of her death? Was this her way of saving herself? Had we angels accidentally created our own downfall with our greed?
And most important of all, what did this mean for the woman we all loved?
Because if killing me meant that she would live, then I'd give her everything. I had no idea what death might feel like, or if it was even possible, but if that was what it took to save her, then I was hers. From the looks on the faces around me, I knew we all felt the same. This woman had become the center of our existence. She had found a way to bring us all together, bind us tighter than we'd ever been before, and bring more joy to our lives than I'd ever thought possible.
Without her, nothing else mattered. There would be no reason to fight against the atrocities of the angels or any other sentient. There would be no reason to fight so hard to fix things. I'd fallen in love once before, only to lose it, and I would not do this again. I couldn't. That was why I'd resisted her so hard. Because I knew that this one woman had the power to destroy me completely.
And that was what she was doing right now. My eyes were so heavy I could barely keep them open. My limbs were so weak I could barely stay on my knees. If she pulled much more, I would collapse into unconsciousness, and I knew