The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and..

pain, pressing his lips together, his back stiffening
unnaturally. He was trying to hold it together as his Prince
spoke to him, and as the wolven, Atlantians, and Guardians
surrounded him. Sadly, he was losing the battle as anguish
pulsed in waves through him. If he lost it, Casteel wouldn’t
hold it against him, but I could sense that he wanted to be
seen as brave and strong. And I hated that. Hated those
who were responsible even more for the pain they had
inflicted on others and the lives they had stolen.
I reacted without thought, only instinct. Later, I would
obsess over everything that could’ve possibly gone wrong
since I had no idea what my touch would do now. I slipped
my hand free from Casteel’s and placed it on the Atlantian’s
arm. His wide eyes shot to mine. Tears clung to his lashes.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, wishing there was something
better to say, something more helpful, more inspiring. But
words were rarely good enough to ease the pain of loss. I
did what I knew, pulling on my happy moments—warm and
hopeful emotions. I thought of how I felt when Casteel told
me he loved me, how I felt when I realized that he did in
Spessa’s End. I took those emotions and I let them flow
through my body into Quentyn’s.
He jerked as I felt his grief and disbelief pulse intensely
and then rapidly fade. The skin around his mouth eased,
and the tension in his shoulders relaxed. He exhaled
heavily, and I felt no more sorrow. I released his arm,
knowing the reprieve wouldn’t last forever. Hopefully, it
could give him some time to come to terms with his friend’s
death in private.
“Your eyes,” Quentyn whispered, blinking slowly.
“They’re strange—” His cheeks flushed under the torchlight.
“I mean, they’re really pretty. Strange in a pretty way.”
My brows rose as I looked at Casteel.
The lines and angles of his face had softened. “They’re
glowing,” he murmured, leaning in slightly. “Actually, it’s not