Eight years ago, Emily had tried to kill herself by jumping from the roof of the fifteen-story hospital building.
Tyler had caught her by the wrist as she had sailed through the air, well, fallen, but she had jumped with enough push to fly forward before dropping down.
Tyler had used magic that had felt like molten lava spilling from his head to his feet to reach out and catch both the forlorn female and himself, hanging off the roof’s edge with one hand as he held onto the girl with his other, keeping her from hitting the side of the building.
He had gazed down at her vacant expression, which quickly turned into hot rage as she shook herself, and him, vigorously to get him to release her.
But she was too weak, too light, to shake the steady, sturdy boy holding onto her as if it were
