This is wrong, was Isla’s first thought. She shouldn’t be alive. Her body recognized it. Its life force had been drained away completely.

She opened her eyes, and Isla had never heard such a sound of relief. Grim was kneeling in front of her. Her hand was in his. “Heart,” he said.

“You’re here, heart.” It was like he still couldn’t believe it.

She had been somewhere else. Now, she was back.

“How?” she asked.

His head lifted, and she saw tears in his eyes. His face was covered in dirt and blood, but he was here, kneeling before her, like she was something to worship. “You died,” he said, the word cracking. His voice was raw, like he had been screaming too. “You died in my arms.”

Grim closed his eyes, and tears fell. They made lines in the dirt and crusted blood. She reached for him on instinct, clearing them away. She had died. Were her people okay? Had giving her power to Grim through the thread that connected them worked?

She couldn’t cheat death. Grim couldn’t either. It didn’t make sense that she was still living.

“How?” she asked again.