>>Aelin
"You—you were dying," I choked, brushing my fingers over his face. "You were—" My throat closed up. I couldn't say it clearly but I had to try, "Apparently your body was c-cold. The black blood from the nun must have affected your whole body," I began to panic, "You should have let me heal you before-"
But his hand weakly reached up and touched my cheek making me pause. "You did it,"
I froze for a moment and looked into his eyes, then I placed my hand on his cheek.
What if I hadn't? What if I lost him?
My throat closed around the words, my voice giving up before I could finish the thought. I couldn't say it. I didn't want to.
His eyes—those burning, storm-dark eyes—fluttered, weak and slow. And then his hand moved. Just barely.
His knuckles grazed against my jaw, then curled with such care around my cheek as if the act alone might shatter me.
"You saved me," he whispered hoarsely.
My heart cracked.
