Xander woke slowly, as if emerging from a very long, dark tunnel.
The first thing he became aware of was warmth. Soft, familiar warmth pressed against his chest. Then came the steady rhythm of breathing that wasn’t his own. His eyes fluttered open, and the world gradually came into focus.
Claire.
She was curled against him, completely naked, her ginger hair spilled across his chest like silk. One of her arms was draped over his waist, and her face was tucked into the crook of his neck. The sight of her — safe, exhausted, but here — hit him like a wave.
Tears stung his eyes.
He was alive.
The silver poisoning was gone. His body felt weak and sore, but the deadly fire in his blood had been extinguished. The ritual had worked. And Claire had chosen to go through it with him.
Xander’s a
