Long grooves scored her back, so deep he could see the white of bone beneath the bubbling blood. He pressed his palms to the wounds and willed them closed. Her blood warmed his hands and stained his fingers, but the wounds did not mend. He turned her on her side, pressing a hand between her breasts and finding her heartbeat. She watched him with calm acceptance and faith-filled eyes, but her face was so pale he couldn’t see the gold in her skin.
“Sasha—sing with me,” he pled, the first waves of doubt making him desperate. Her song was all around him, crystal clear, a chiming he now recognized, a peal of bells that had healed injuries far more grievous than the ones he now struggled to close. Yet he couldn’t close them.
“Come with me and I will try to love you,” she whispered, smiling gen
