Chapter 162
The obsidian wall groans again, the fissure stretching wider with an ominous crack. Dust and glass-like shards crumble from above, raining onto the cavern floor. My breath hitches as I grab Cora’s arm to steady myself.
“I—I think I can stop it,” I say, my voice breaking with uncertainty.
Cora turns sharply, her expression fierce. “Phoebe, no. You’re still recovering. You’ve already pushed yourself too far.”
“And if I don’t?” I snap back, my eyes fixed on the wall as if sheer will alone can hold it together. “We’re trapped, Cora. We don’t have another choice.”
Before she can argue, I close my eyes and focus. That strange, shivering cold I felt earlier lingers somewhere deep inside me—a silent power buried far beneath the surface. I inhale sharply, trying to breathe past the ache in my chest, trying to pull it closer.
Come on, I plead silently. Where are you?
At first, there’s nothing. Just the familiar emptiness of magic I’ve already spent. But then—a spark. The faintest flicker of something cool and sharp, like ice slicing through my ribs. I seize it, clinging desperately to that ember as the wall lets out one final, deafening crack.
“Phoebe!” Cora shouts.
My eyes fly open just as the obsidian gives way.
Not lava.
Water.
A torrent of seawater bursts through the fissure, slamming into the cavern with enough force to knock Cora and me stumbling back. I throw my arms up to shield my face, the icy salt spray stinging my skin. The roar of rushing waves fills the cavern, the water swirling violently around us.
“What the hell…” I mutter, blinking through the spray.
But before I can process what’s happening, a figure barrels through the gap in the wall—a blur of black and red scales and dark hair. He lands with impossible grace, the massive tail already shifting as he emerges from the water, morphing into powerful, bare legs.
“Phoebe,” Wake says, his voice rough, his gaze sweeping the cavern.
My jaw drops. “Wake? You’re here!”
He doesn’t respond immediately. His dark eyes flick to my splinted leg, his expression hardening. Without warning, he storms toward me and sweeps me up into his arms.
“What are you—” I gasp, the words faltering as I find myself pressed against his bare chest. Warm, solid, unyielding. Heat rushes to my face as I catch a glimpse of his glorious, unashamed nudity—all rippling muscle and sun-kissed skin.
I blush, half-panicked, half-horrified at the thought of my grandmother standing only feet away.
But when I glance at her, she’s not paying attention.
“Khale,” she breathes as the second figure enters through the broken wall. He steps into the cavern with his signature calm, his gaze taking in the wreckage and rising seawater.
“Phoebe. Cora,” Khale greets, his voice smooth and steady. “Are you well?”
Before I can answer, his eyes move to the obsidian cavern glittering as one solid mass. “What is this place?”
Cora doesn’t answer. Instead, she crosses the cavern to him. Her chest rises and falls unevenly, her face soft in a way I’ve never seen before. Then, before Khale can react, she pulls him into a kiss.
Khale freezes, his arms stiff at his sides for a heartbeat before something in him gives way. He melts into her, his hands rising to cup her face.
“We’re leaving,” Wake announces abruptly, his voice cutting through the moment.
“What?” I sputter, blinking up at him as he strides toward the cavern exit with me still in his arms. “Where are you going?”
“To give them privacy,” he growls, not bothering to look back.
I arch a brow, incredulous. “Since when do you care about modesty? Or other people?”
Wake stops walking. He looks down at me, his expression deadly serious. “You’re right. I need to give us some privacy.”
A thrill shoots through me, but there’s nothing playful in his tone. I frown. “You’re angry.”
“You’re hurt,” he fires back.
I roll my eyes, exasperation bubbling up. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you, Wake. What was I supposed to do? It’s not like I could tell you how to get here faster.”
“But you did,” he says, his voice quiet but firm.
I blink up at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“When you were etherwalking. Before the connection broke, you said, ‘help me.’ After that, I knew where to find you.”
I stare at him, stunned. I replay the memory, the desperation I’d felt. “Like you could see what I was seeing, or…”
“No,” he cuts me off. “I knew where you were. Whatever you did, you should have done it sooner.”
“Well, there’s your problem,” I shoot back, frustration flaring. “I don’t know what I did! Just like I don’t know how I did—” I gesture wildly at the gleaming walls of obsidian surrounding us. “This.”
Wake stops short, his gaze snapping to the cavern walls. “You did this?”
I nod slowly. “The lava was filling the cavern. I couldn’t stop it. I was tapped out, Wake, so I… I demanded more power from Electra.”
He sets me down and kneels in front of my injured leg, his jaw tight. “You can’t demand power from a god.”
I shrug helplessly. “I don’t know what to tell you. I said I needed more power and… boom. Obsidian everywhere.”
Wake growls low, his hands running over the splint. “Then you should have done that before you hurt yourself.”
“Stop scolding me,” I mutter, my irritation softening as guilt tugs at me. I cup his cheek, forcing him to look at me. “However it happened, I’m glad you found me.”
He doesn’t reply. Instead, he stands, grabs a shard of obsidian, and without hesitation, slices open his forearm.
“Wake!” I yelp, my voice sharp with alarm. “What are you doing?”
“My job,” he grunts, holding his bleeding arm over my leg. Dark blood drips into the wound, his expression unreadable. “I am your mate, Phoebe. A fact you seem not to grasp. If I’ve failed to protect you, the least I can do is heal you.”
My leg starts to itch, then burn. I grit my teeth as the fractured bones snap back into place with a sharp, agonizing crack that makes me shout.
“I thought your saliva was the healer,” I gasp through the pain.
“Blood works better,” he mutters.
The pain vanishes, replaced by something else—a heat that coils low in my belly, intense and all-consuming.
“Why don’t you heal with blood more often?” I stammer, my voice breathy as the strange heat floods through me.
Wake growls softly, leaning closer. “You’ll see soon enough.”
And then he kisses me. Hard.
I freeze for half a second, stunned before the fire roaring inside me consumes everything else. I melt into him, my hands fisting in his hair as his lips claim mine—hot, demanding, and unrelenting. The world crumbles around us, but right now, none of it matters.
Because Wake is here. And he isn’t letting me go.
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