Darius suddenly crouched low and looked Dayan in the eye. “If you ever trusted me, trusted my judgment, if you ever believed in me, follow me now.”
Dayan felt the strength of his leader, the man he named brother, flowing into him, and he nodded, a slow, grim smile softening the edges of his mouth. It had been long since he had known emotion around his family, and now his pride and love for them were overwhelming. He turned inward, swiftly pursued and caught up with that weak, flickering light that was moving so far away from him. He surrounded Corinne’s spirit; his will a strong wall, an anchor to hold her in his world. ‘Corinne. Know me.’
He felt her response. Weak. Fluttery. But she knew him. Of course she knew him. She would know him anywhere. What had he been thinking? Corinne loved life. She embraced life. She might be accepting of the hardships life had handed her, but she found joy in all things, beauty in the world around her. She wanted to raise her daughter, she wanted to see Lisa’s and Cullen’s happiness. Corinne wanted a life with Dayan.
Dayan held her locked to him. Her spirit was being pulled away from him, away from her damaged body. He saw Gregori and Darius working, two points of pure light, massaging and stimulating her heart. He knew Gregori commanded that more blood be given, and it was Jacques, brother to the Prince, who supplied it to Corinne. Dayan saw the two healers work furiously at spreading the blood to the organs of Corinne’s body in hopes of speeding the conversion. Both were exhausted from maintaining the out-of-body experience, but neither wavered in his task.
‘I’m tired. Let me sleep for a while.’
It was those last six little words that convinced him. She wanted sleep, not death. Not eternal sleep. ‘Not yet, my love. It is not over yet. One more thing. Just one, and I will allow you to sleep as long as you like. Join with me, merge into my mind so that I can keep you safe while you cross over fully into my world.’ The first ripple of pain was shocking. It felt like fire racing through her bloodstream. Corinne’s body contorted, jerked in Dayan’s arms. He couldn’t believe the force of the rush, a fireball consuming her. She cried out, the sound torn from her throat, loud in the hushed stillness of the chamber, so that it echoed up the vent into the night sky.
‘Oh, God, she cannot survive this. I do not want her last moments to be such pain.’ The words broke from him as tiny beads of blood oozed across his forehead. He could not take the pain away. He had dulled it, but it was something none of them could fully prevent.
‘She must survive.’ Darius was implacable in his resolve.
Dayan breathed deeply, allowed the pain to wash over and through him before he turned his complete attention inward to that fragile spirit huddling so weakly within the walls he’d constructed. Corinne astonished him. She was unafraid. She was as accepting of the conversion as she had been of her labor. She was weak, though, and unable to aid him in gathering strength for the coming battle.
The next wave of fire burned through her internal organs with a jolt so severe, she was nearly wrenched out of Dayan’s arms. There was no gradual buildup. The healers were forcing the conversion to accommodate her disintegrating heart. It would have failed long before if the two healers had ceased their work.
Dayan held Corinne’s head as she was violently sick, again and again. She was too weak to move or help herself. He took great care that she did not inhale, seeing that she expelled every damaging toxin from her body. He found himself clenching his teeth against the waves of terrible pain racing through her body. Deep within his mind he felt her spirit falter, the light flickering. No! He clung to her, turned every ounce of his will to prevent that light from being extinguished. They had come so far. Death must not take her now.