Queen of the Fae (Dragon's Gift The Dark Fae #3) - Linsey Hall Page 0,63

as I crawled toward him. Somehow, my life was seeping from me. I could feel it as I grew colder.

I’m dying.

I didn’t understand how—the blast of his magic wasn’t supposed to kill those it hit, and I could feel the life all around us. The others were unconscious, but not dead.

I didn’t care.

I didn’t care about anything except getting back to Tarron.

Finally, I reached him, grabbing his limp hand. Not dead. Not yet.

So close though.

Instinct drove me.

I used my new reflective magic, having no idea what I was doing but not caring. I tried to absorb as much of his power as I could—tried to suck it out of the air itself.

The flames were out, and his magic still hovered in the air. He needed that magic—needed it to survive.

He lay limp on the ground as I draped myself over him, sobbing and trying to shove his magic back into him.

The cold crept over me even more as I tried to absorb the power like I had back at the goddesses’ temple. I’d stepped into the crystal’s electric current and absorbed it, then sent it at the queen.

I could do this.

I sliced my finger with my thumbnail, letting the blood well as I called on my Dragon Blood power. I used it to enhance my Unseelie magic, to help me absorb all the magic in the air so I could force it back into Tarron.

But the cold…

It seeped through me, icing in my veins and turning my movements slow and groggy.

Tarron’s eyes were closed, his breathing so shallow that he had to be nearly dead.

I used every magic I had, working on instinct alone, but it wasn’t enough. The cold crept ever closer, wrapping me in its terrible embrace.

There was no pain as I opened my eyes. Blinking, I stared up at the cloudy sky.

No, not a cloudy sky.

The entire place was full of clouds.

Was I having a premonition again?

Now?

Wait, when was now?

Confusion tore through me, memories blasting into my mind.

Fire. The queen. Tarron.

Gasping, I sat upright. My body felt weightless. There was no pain, no tiredness. Tarron lay next to me.

I fell on him, trying to shake his shoulders to wake him up.

My hands passed right through.

Oh shit.

Tarron opened his eyes, confusion in the depths. Only then did I realize that he was slightly transparent.

I blinked, shocked. “Holy fates. We’re both dead.”

“What did you do?” He sat upright, fast and sure, his tone demanding. He gripped my arms, but was unable to make contact. His hands disappeared right through. “Mari. What did you do? You shouldn’t have died! My magic should have only knocked you unconscious.”

“I don’t know!” Panic flared in my chest. “I did a lot of things. New magic, old magic. Whatever I could to keep you from dying.”

Despair flashed across his face. “And it killed you, too.”

I reached for him, though my hands couldn’t make contact. I was confused and shocked and terrified and almost a bit happy. Every emotion in the universe flashed through me, and I’d never been so baffled in my life.

I didn’t want to be dead, but apparently I didn’t want to be separated from him either.

I was just grateful to be looking at him. Talking to him. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

He stood and I rose to join him. We looked around, silent.

White clouds. White trees, white grass. It was all ephemeral and pale.

“I’m not really religious, so I have no idea what the afterlife looks like,” I said.

“Not this,” Tarron said. “This is something else…”

“Are we not dead?”

“I don’t—”

“You are not dead.” A voice sounded from the right. “Not quite, at least.”

I spun, spotting the red-haired Celtic goddess. “Brigid.”

She approached, a serene smile on her face. “This is very strange indeed.”

“What’s going on?” Tarron demanded. “Are my people safe? Is the Unseelie Queen dead?”

Brigid looked at me. “Do you feel dead?”

“What?” Confusion flickered.

“The Unseelie Queen,” Tarron said. “Not Mari.”

“Mari is the true ruler of the Unseelie.”

Holy shit. That was the same language the historian had used. The true ruler.

“What do you mean?” I asked, chills racing over me.

“Your mother does not rightfully hold the throne that should be yours.”

Horror threatened to devour me. “She’s still alive, isn’t she?”

Tarron’s magic hadn’t killed her, because it had killed me.

I was the other Fae royalty. Therefore, I had bitten the dust when he had.

Brigid nodded. “That Fae is still alive, yes. Injured, but she will survive.”

Oh fates. This was so bad. “But the Seelie realm isn’t on fire, right?” I asked. “I