Isla took his powers. Grim’s shadows ceased, and he was hit by the full force of Oro’s fury. He landed on his back. Isla didn’t know how he wasn’t immediately killed.
Or how he slowly inched up, gasping for air. His hand lashed out as he tried to summon his shadows once more. He could not.
He frowned and turned to look at her with an earnestness that made her want to sink to the ground. “What is this, heart?” he asked.
She was sobbing, and he didn’t look betrayed—he looked devastated that she was crying. He was upset that she was upset at the fact that she had stolen his powers, readying him for Oro to kill—
She couldn’t do it. Her concentration wavered.
Still, she didn’t stop her hold on his powers.
Oro made a sword out of Starling energy. It crackled with strength, and he lifted it over his head. Grim wouldn’t be able to defend himself. She had weakened him. In one moment, he would be dead. He would be dead. He would be dead.
That was the first moment she had ever seen Grim afraid.
Just before the blade found his neck, he bellowed, “If I die, she dies.”
It wasn’t even his death that he feared. It was hers. Her death was what made him rabid, shaking, yelling, eyes wide and desperate.
Oro froze, just an inch from ending the Nightshade. “No,” Oro whispered, disbelieving. Furious. Understanding something Isla still hadn’t. “You didn’t.”
