Before the Raging Lion (Mortality Book 4)

by Everly Frost

  His eyes bored into me.

  “You have to go back, Ava. You have to fight with every shred of hope, every memory of happiness, every heavy weight of forgiveness, every burden of letting go, and every gift of love. You’ll need everything.”

  I tugged my brother’s hand. “I want you to come with me. I miss you.”

  He smiled. “I love you, too, little sister. I can’t come with you right now, but remember that you’re never alone.”

  One of the falling leaves glinted in the sunlight. Its color changed as I watched, turning to gold. It floated onto my right hand, bright as a fallen star. As soon as it touched my skin, a spark of light jumped from it, spooling toward Josh like an unraveling ball of golden thread.

  It met his hand and paused there, connecting us. But it didn’t stop there. It raced outward away from the tree, across the grass and into the starlight beyond. In the far, far distance, out in the white nothing, an image formed.

  It was a boy’s silhouette. He knelt on the ground, his hands outstretched. The spark carrying the golden thread sped toward him, connecting all three of us, and when it crashed into him, it lit up his face.

  My heart leaped. “Michael!”

  His voice broke across the sighing wind. Please take my life. I’ll give it willingly. Please bring her back.

  Josh said, “Michael’s connected to both of us. He’s part of this too. You need him as much as he needs you.”

  Then he squeezed my hand. “You won’t have long, Ava.”

  Michael’s silhouette pushed its hand toward me, palm open. The spark flared in his hand and spiraled all the way back toward me, racing across the white nothing, across the green grass, back to my body, through my heart and my chest.

  The electrical shock drove through me, a spark so bright that I cried out.

  I turned to Josh. “I have to go back.”

  My brother kissed my cheek.

  I closed my eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  MICHAEL’S CRY was filled with so much grief that I wanted to block my ears.

  He cradled me in his lap, rocking me beside the tree. The dagger wasn’t in my side anymore—Michael had removed his shirt and wrapped it tightly around me, stemming the bleeding. He pressed his palm against my heart and the electrical charge pouring from his hand sent shivers all through me. His other arm circled my shoulders. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

  I wanted to wipe them away, but my right hand was still attached to the tree and my other arm was wedged against his chest.

  Beyond us, my brothers fought Alexander with everything they had. Fire and shadows slammed the immortal, but nothing kept him down. Quake pounded him into the ground, but he jumped right up, returning the blows. Blaze scorched the air with flames but Alexander laughed and walked straight through them.

  They were keeping him at bay for now and that was what I needed them to do.

  My throat hurt, but I forced myself to speak. “Michael.”

  He froze. He lifted my face to his. “Ava. You came back.”

  “I think you kick-started my heart.”

  He eased his palm away from my chest and wrapped both arms around me. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

  My voice broke, but I wasn’t going to lie to him. “I’m not. I’ve lost too much blood. You brought me back, but it’s only the tree keeping me alive now. I don’t have long.”

  He shook his head. “I won’t accept that. You’re alive and I’m keeping you that way.”

  “Michael, listen to me. I thought I had to do this alone, but I was wrong. My brother told me that I need you. I need you now more than ever.”

  “What can I do? Tell me. I’ll do it.”

  “Hold my hand.”

  He untangled our bodies, resting me gently against the ashen tree. Dust clung to me where my blood and tears had soaked my dress. The tree bit into my back like razors and the jagged shells of scorpions cut my skin. I wouldn’t have to bear it much longer.

  He reached for my free hand, but I shook my head. “Take my other hand. The one touching the tree.”

  He pulled back. “But…”

  “Yes.”

  He froze, staring at me. Staring at the tree. “No … I’m not … I’ve done too much bad…”

  “You think you’re not worthy?”

  “I…” He took a deep breath. “I have no idea what this tree really is. I have no idea what to believe. But if I believe for even one second that this is actually the Tree of Life, that touching it connects us to something bigger than us, something beyond us, then … there’s no way I deserve to be standing here.”

  “Michael, I—”

  “I’ve done so much wrong. I killed your brother. Then I couldn’t protect you from Douglas Reid and you were forced to kill him. I never tried to find out where the Basher cells were or how to get kids out of them. I was angry with my mom, selfishly angry because she made a really difficult choice and I blamed her for it. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

  Tears dripped down his face.

  “Michael. That’s exactly why you need to do this with me.”

  I reached for him with my free hand, forcing him to look at me. “You need to know something about my brother and I’m willing to risk telling you. Your father tried to save him. He tried everything. He didn’t bring Josh back, but my brother’s still breathing.”

  His eyes shot wide. “He’s still alive?”

  “He’s being kept alive by machines. When this is all over, you need to help your dad. Even if that means standing beside him when he turns off the machines. He’ll need you, Michael.”

  Michael wobbled, sinking further toward me. “If there’s a chance to bring Josh back, I won’t stop looking for it.”

  “If there’s a chance for you to forgive your dad, then you need to take it. When we were prisoners in the Terminal, your dad was trying to save Josh. He didn’t know what was happening to us. For a long time I thought that, even if he didn’t know, he should have. And it’s true—he should have been there for you. But he had to choose between keeping you safe or saving my brother’s life. He thought you’d be okay.”

  “Mom thought I’d be okay too. When she left.”

  “They asked a lot of you. Too much. But you’re strong. So strong. They need you in their lives, Michael.”

  The sunlight was very bright and the edges of my vision blurred. “It doesn’t matter so much what you’ve done before as what you choose to do now.”

  Michael faced the jagged surface. His hand paused inches above mine near the only place that wasn’t ash—the only part of the tree that was still alive.

  I whispered, “You promised me you’d kiss me under the tree again. It’s not the same tree but I don’t want to die without—”

  He cut me off, his lips pressed to mine. I tasted salty tears—so many of them—and bristles where he hadn’t had a chance to shave. And the fall of his hair as he bent his head to mine.

  Then the rest of the world disappeared.

  I curled into him and he curved around me and I couldn’t remember where I was anymore. Only that we were together and there was hope and happiness, forgiveness and love. Just like Josh had said.

  There was a crack and a snap above us. It was loud enough to jolt us apart. The branch directly above us creaked downward. At the same time, a glow began around our hands, spreading upward. It was the thinnest line of light, fragile and wan, lighting up the ash and dust, traveling through the branch while it continued to lower.

  Without warning, the light burst into brightness. For a brief moment, there was another tree beside us—a tree lush with leaves, the image superimposed over the dying one we touched.

  The branch creaked all the way to Michael’s eye level, glowing like firelight. A bud formed beside his cheek, growing and expanding, until a fiery fruit hung from it.

  The firelight reflected in Michael’s eyes as he stared at the fruit in awe. It wasn’t a plum, but something else�
��something with a fire burning inside of it.

  At the same time, soft petals tickled my cheek. They were so soft, they reminded me of the leopard’s fur. A beautiful white flower, flecked with silver, grew right beside me.

  The fruit dropped from the tree into Michael’s hands. As it dropped, it turned shiny red on the outside.

  The flower floated into mine, pure white as a feather.

  There was another crack and the image of the living tree disappeared. The dead tree remained, but so did its gifts.

  “Michael…”

  He shook his head. Hard. “This isn’t right. This apple can save your life. It should be for you.”

  He held the fruit out to me, but I clasped the flower. Esther had said that the flower could be even more priceless than the fruit. I studied its flecks and folds, the way its petals caught the light, funneling the sunlight into its center. It was a lot like the flower Michael and I had created, but different in the middle.

  At that moment, Alexander broke from my brothers, running toward us, his presence a stark reminder of what was going on around us. Beyond the fight with my brothers, the Seversandian warriors were bloodied and worn, stripped of their ability to heal, fighting with everything they had to keep the Evereach soldiers at bay.

  Alexander skidded to a stop several feet away, his eyes wide. “How did you…?”

  But his lips quickly twisted into a cruel smile. His words were like knives in the air. “She’s dying and the tree gave her a flower. A worthless, useless flower! That’s how much she’s worth.”

  Quake caught up to Alexander and grabbed him, dragging him away. Alexander fought back, shouting. “Eat the fruit, Michael. You can live forever. You can be truly immortal. It’s yours.”

  “No, I don’t want it.” Michael pulled me closer, pushing the fruit into my lap, abandoning it. His eyes were filled with shock and dread, his hands shaking.

  “I don’t want anything without you.”

  “Michael.” I shushed him, stroking his tears away with my free hand. “Look.”

  I held up the flower so he could see it. Its petals were dazzling, but right in the center was a tiny transparent bubble. Inside the protective outer layer was…

  “A seed.” I brushed the delicate petals. “It’s a beautiful seed. Will you help me remove it? I can’t do this on my own.”

  Alexander kept shouting in the background, but I couldn’t spare any energy for him anymore. My vision was awash with starlight and I knew I didn’t have long. Maybe only a few moments.

  “I’ll always help you.” He withdrew the seed and placed it in my free palm.

  It was small and soft. It rested there like it belonged.

  “Ava? Ava!”

  My head lolled. Only the tips of my fingers still remained on the tree. Michael clasped my face, fear shooting across his own. He pushed my hand against the tree, trying to keep it there.

  “Ava, please! I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do! I can’t lose you. Ava!”

  The starlight consumed my vision.

  Josh’s voice called to me from the white beyond.

  I whispered to Michael. “Plant it for me.”

  I slipped away from the tree. My blood drenched the shirt tied across my stomach as I fell. Michael caught me, dragging me up against his chest, screaming at me to wake up, pressing his palm against my chest.

  Electricity shot from his hand to my heart but I didn’t feel it.

  It was far, far away.

  The last thing I felt was his hand clamp over mine and the tiny weight of the seed disappeared.

  There was a moment of pause. A moment of weightlessness.

  In the distance, a lion roared, but this time, I didn’t fight it. I didn’t run. I wasn’t afraid. I’d given everything. I didn’t want anything for myself. My heart was like a river and all the doubt, fear, and regret evaporated. All that remained was hope and the knowledge that I’d loved someone more than myself—and they’d loved me back.

  And then…

  Heat exploded through me—more heat than I could possibly contain.

  Shock wrenched me back.

  I shot through starlight, screaming as hard as my lungs would allow and then harder.

  Fire radiated from the knife wound in my side, rocketing outward through my chest and arms, down my legs, back up through my spine and across my shoulder blades.

  I arched backward, losing any sense of where I was, only knowing that Michael didn’t hold me anymore. Instead, I was spinning and writhing, buffeted by something stronger than me.

  Agony ripped through my back and I clawed at it, seeking the source of my pain and failing to find it. I’d lived through a thousand flames, my heart had broken and healed and broken again, but this…

  My bones shifted. As I spun around and around, my whole body seemed to spread outward, extending beyond itself before contracting again, snapping back, reforming into something … else.

  My eyes shot open to a world burning crimson. The tree, the scorpion husks, the ash, my brothers … even Alexander where he stood frozen, looking up at me. All of it was stained red.

  He’d stopped fighting my brothers, his head thrown back, his hair matted, his fists clenched. My brothers’ chests were heaving. Each bore slashes that weren’t healing.

  Their nectar was all gone.

  They couldn’t fight Alexander anymore.

  A maelstrom of dust and ash whirled between them and me like some sort of barrier. It kept Alexander at bay, but it kept my brothers out, too.

  Outside the barrier, their movements were slow. Too slow. As if time had sped up where I was—or slowed down for them. I couldn’t tell which.

  Only Michael was inside the eye of the storm with me. He knelt in the ash, tears tracking through the blood and dust on his face and torso, dirt coating his muscles. His chest was bare. The shirt he’d wrapped around my wound was gone.

  What had he done?

  I reached for my side where the heat originated. The wound was a deep, visible cut, but everything was different…

  My skin, my hands, my whole body glowed. Light spilled from the wound in my side, radiating out through me, through my arms thrown wide, through my legs and my pointed toes.

  Toes that drifted high above the ground.

  Mini tornados of ash whirled around us, spinning out of control. Dust billowed around the tree, filling the air with specks. A chunk of dead wood separated from its trunk, sucked into the larger storm around me, zipping toward it and then floating inside the whirling barrier as if suspended.

  I tried to touch ground, to will myself to return to earth, but the wind only picked up around me, thrumming with my heartbeat, churning faster as I struggled. It moved with me, pushing and pulling, billowing outward with every breath.

  Beyond the barrier, my brothers sank to their knees, flinging their arms across their faces to ward off the debris. Soldiers and warriors within the enclosure were thrown from their feet, flying backward.

  “Michael!” I screamed, reaching for him. “What did you do?”

  He half-smiled. He stood up in the wind, tilting his head back, flinging his arms wide like mine, exposing his chest and his heart. He whispered, but I heard him.

  “I did what I had to do.”

  My brother’s words.

  “I planted the seed, Ava. I planted it where it belonged.”

  My eyes shot wide, gripping my side, gripping the open wound. Before I could react, the site of the injury knitted together, sealing forever, locking the seed inside my body.

  He’d planted the seed inside my wound.

  I should have been afraid. Terrified. But as the injury healed, the heat receded and in its place was only calm. Peace flowed through me, filtering through every nerve, every cell, extending beyond me in a way that I didn’t understand.

  I stretched toward Michael again, sensing my body tilt as I reached out. “Why can’t I come down?”

  It felt like such a silly question right then,
but all he did was smile and point.

  “Because you’re not supposed to.”

  He wasn’t pointing at me. His finger curved toward something at my side. Left and then right.

  I blinked, following his hand.

  Suddenly, the pain in my back made sense. Suddenly the wind around me made sense. I understood why my senses felt so much bigger than me, why I was … beyond myself.

  I closed my eyes for a moment. The muscles in my back rippled. I threw my thoughts outward, willed my arms as wide as they would go, stretching myself beyond anything I’d ever imagined.

  Michael’s smile broke free.

  I stretched my wings.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  MY WINGS were burnished orange, made up of thousands of feathers that took the shape of fiery leaves. I spread them out as far as they’d go, shivering with sensation.

  “You’re alive.” Michael’s smile faded. “Please, Ava. Go somewhere safe. I can’t lose you.”

  I drew my wings to my sides, getting used to the signals in my body to control them, folding them as close as I could.

  “You know I can’t do that.” I alighted on the ground. My wings were so long that they tracked valleys into the ash as I walked.

  I pressed a kiss to his lips, drinking in the acceptance I found there. “I’m only alive because of you. I want you to know that. You made amends, Michael, a thousand times over.”

  Over his shoulder, I saw that Alexander was recovering. Everything was speeding up. Catching up to us.

  Alexander gripped another knife. He turned, aiming the weapon at Blaze, slashing at his shoulder and neck. My brother lurched backward, stumbling.

  “Alexander’s crimes end now.”

  I spread my wings, lifted off the ground, and beat them once. The force was enough to shoot me forward. I sped through the storm, piercing the cocoon around us, breaking the protective barrier and crashing through to the other side.