Through my shut eyelids, I saw a spark of light, and a reciprocal spark of hope lit up my chest. Meanwhile, several sets of footsteps approached. I forced myself to keep my eyes closed, staying focused on Isalio.

Come back, come back, come back to me, I prayed.

He sucked in a breath.

Relief flooded me, and my eyes flew open. "Isalio?"

His eyes opened too, though slower; unfocused. The hollow space under his eyes and the sharp lines of his cheekbones were filling in.

"What...happened?" He drew another breath, ragged and vocalized, like a warper clogged by sand. "Did I...?"

I heard muttering behind me—the people Ranndu had fetched must have arrived—but I focused on continuing to channel lifeforce as I spoke. "You saved him; you saved Ranndu."

"He's healed? He'll be ok?"

"I think so, but you almost died." My voice choked. "I thought I'd lost you."

"Oh, really?" He gave a slow blink, but his lips curved in a smile. "Did you say nice things about me while thinking I was gone?"

"Fuck you," I said, but I pulled him further onto my lap, so his shoulders pressed against one thigh and his head was cradled by the outer part of my other thigh, my stomach, and my hand.

"So that's what you were thinking about when I was dying."

I shook my head at him, but my lips twitched—that was so Isalio, and I had been so afraid I would never hear that infuriating sass again. "Isalio, you went all cold and hard, like a skeleton."

"I bet I could get much harder than that, if you...oh fuck, there are people watching us, aren't there?" He craned his head toward the entryway, still blinking as though struggling to focus.

"No. I mean, yes, but..." But I thought he was dying, and here he was, skin rapidly warming, eyes dancing with life...and nothing else fucking mattered.

"The High Prince healed Ranndu?" said someone behind me, and I belatedly realized it was Fraschkit's voice.

I opened my mouth to reply, but I stopped when someone stepped out from behind Fraschkit—the one who could answer that question best.
Ranndu smiled at Isalio and then turned to address the people around him—Fraschkit, Bakvar, Jafflu, Eranea, and several I didn't know. "I feel better than I have since I arrived at the palace, and it's all thanks to the High Prince. He saved my life." His smile faded. "But I swear I would never have agreed to this if I would have known the risk."

"Isalio knew the risks," I said, "And he still insisted."

"It would have been such a waste if he'd died just to save me."

"He didn't think so."

Another murmur passed between Fraschkit and the leaders of the Mantle—interrupted by Isalio.

"He is right here, and still alive," Isalio snapped, but then he slumped, breathless. "Mostly."

Ranndu turned to Isalio and folded into a bow. "I owe my life to you. Thank you, Your Highness."

"Please don't call me that."

"Then what should I call you?"

Isalio hesitated. I remembered how he had struggled with answering that simple question back at the rebel base. No one uses my name.

"You can call me by my name, if you want." Another brief hesitation, and a swallow. "I'm Isalio."

My chest constricted. It was such a simple, ordinary statement, but coming from Isalio, it was so much more than that. His name sounded foreign on his own lips. Perhaps I had already said it more times than he had in his entire life.

Ranndu's reply felt utterly bizarre, deceptively normal, and heart-wrenchingly right:

"Isalio, then. Thank you, Isalio."

***

Aside from Ranndu, no one quite knew how to respond to what had just happened. Eranea and Bakvar still looked suspicious, but the human Jafflu pulled Ranndu under his arm and asked if he would be willing to share the miracle with more humans. Fraschkit stayed uncharacteristically quiet, looking between Ranndu, me, and Isalio with a furrowed brow.

This was probably good, I noted absently. Now Fraschkit had seen him save Andradkut and Ranndu, and the Mantle had also witnessed the Prince's true heart firsthand. But at that moment, I was too giddy with relief to care much about anyone's reactions.

"If you'll excuse us," I said, "We need to rest and recharge before we leave."

Without waiting for anyone's response, I snagged Isalio's hand and tugged him toward the chamber's exit.

On the walk back to Isalio's chamber, exhaustion slammed into me like a high-speed warper. Was it just the collapse of adrenaline, or was it from giving him lifeforce?

Isalio was in worse shape; his feet hit the ground unevenly, and he swayed a little. I looped an arm around his waist to give him support, though it was half just an excuse to touch him. The shock of seeing him as a corpse still chilled me to the bone.

When we reached his chamber, it took me three tries to shove the boulder back in place, but my muscles eventually obliged. I turned back to Isalio and leaned against the boulder, breathing hard. Isalio sat on the ground, propped back on his palms, one knee bent and the other leg straight. My gut pinched remembering how he had looked the last time he was on the ground, so recently.

Need consumed me, flaring painfully bright—the need to feel him solid and alive in my arms. Impulsively, I strode toward him and dropped down a foot from his side. But I realized his needs aligned with mine; maybe after almost dying, what he needed most was space. So instead of reaching for him, I flipped my palm face-up between us.

He shoved my hand out of the way. Even though it went against all my instincts, I started to shift further away from him. But then he slid toward me, wrapped an arm over my shoulder, and leaned into my side. Fighting a grin, I snaked my arm around his torso.

In unison, we asked, "Are you ok?"

And at the same time, we followed up with opposite verdicts. "You need more lifeforce," I said, while he said, "I took too much of your lifeforce."

I shook my head at him. "That was so fucking reckless. I can't believe you did that. Fuck, I can't believe I encouraged you."

"The reckless part was when I asked you to hold my hand. You shouldn't have even been in the room."

"If I hadn't been there, you would have died. You were...you stopped breathing."

He cursed under his breath. "I could have killed you, Remgar. I'm surprised I didn't; I have no control over how much lifeforce I take when I'm that far gone."

"You didn't take any. I gave it to you."

His eyebrows shot up. "Gave it to me? What are you talking about?"

I raised my hand to his shoulder and started mindlessly kneading. "You know how Guardians draw strength from the ground, and from the First Guardian?"

He started to protest, but I hit a knot in his shoulders, and he instead released a deep hum, his body relaxing. "Yes..."

"I think I figured something out. That 'strength' Guardians get from the ground or from the First Guardian—that's actually lifeforce, and that's why we regenerate."

"So then all Guardians can give lifeforce away?"

"Theoretically, maybe, but Demons can also theoretically do it, and how many have?"

He frowned. "Back when Guardians were in power, I heard there were some starving Demons who were trying to find a way to give some of their lifeforce to Guardians in exchange for food."

My stomach tightened. "Some Demons were starving?"

"I told you Guardian rule was oppressive for Demons. Anyway, from what I heard, they never succeeded."

I was still perturbed by this new glimpse at how Guardians had ruled, and I wanted to ask more, but I stored away those questions for later. "Why do you think they couldn't do it?"

"I suspect they didn't have the right motivation."

"What is the right motivation?"

He hesitated. "What motivated you?"

What had motivated me? I was still afraid to follow that path of thinking, much less voice it aloud.

"I don't know," I said slowly. "And you? How did you figure it out?"

"I don't know." A perfect mimic of my answer. He slipped out under my hand and stood up. "Guess it's time to sleep."

His tone was deceptively light and painfully distant. He strolled toward the mattress, plopped down...and rolled away from me.

Again.

Clenching my jaw, I walked around the mattress and crouched down facing him. "This isn't working."

His gaze lifted to meet mine, amber irises flashing with—panic? He neutralized his expression before I could be sure.

"Yeah, of course not," he said. "I was just waiting for you to realize it."

"Realize what? What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?"

I expelled a long breath, steadying myself. First Guardian, we had even further to go than I had thought. How could we have gone so far in some ways while in other ways we were still toeing the start line?

An archaic sense of self-preservation fought for control. Never let anyone know what you're really thinking. I'd used it with my father, and I realized now that I'd even used it with all the other men I had been with. It was better for no one to see the real me because the real me had made unforgivable mistakes. Each relationship had ended with a low-drama conversation about being better off as friends, though none of those friendships had lasted long.

But 'low-drama' had never been an option with Isalio, and I was willing to offer my soul to him in exchange for a glimpse of his own.

Forcing an even tone, I said, "Isalio, I really want to touch you because I'm...what just happened was..." I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face. "Seeing you like that scared the shit out of me, and I don't think I'll be able to sleep at all unless I'm touching you. But I don't want you to do something just because I ask you to do it—especially not when it comes to intimacy."

His brow furrowed. "I don't get it. How can you look at the same facts I'm looking at and see something completely different? It's like we were born in different worlds."

I thought of what he had told me about how Guardian rule had impacted Demons—a depiction so different from the one I had grown up believing. "We were born in different worlds. So, please, tell me what you see."

"I see an extremely handsome, extremely powerful, and extremely confused man."

I rolled my eyes. "That's exactly what I see. But what am I doing that's confusing you?"

"If you want something, why don't you act on it?"

The answer was obvious to me, but apparently he needed to hear it. "Because I need to know that it's what you want, too."

"I'm the most powerful Demon in the world. I'm the most powerful being. If I don't want something, I'll stop you."

"You didn't stop Danif."

He fisted his hands and averted his gaze. Regret needled me. I didn't want to remind Isalio of those memories, especially not right now. Gently, I laid a hand over one of his fists.

"Please just tell me what you want, Isa."

He expelled a frustrated breath. "Fine. I want—" But then he paused, appearing unbalanced. "I want you beside me."

"Like the last couple nights?"

"Yes. No." He blew another exhale. "Can you sleep touching me?"

Fighting a criminal swell of satisfaction, I somehow managed an even tone. "If that's what you want."

"But is it what you want?"

"You don't have to worry about that. You know I don't have your same...I mean, I haven't had..." I cleared my throat. "I'm not shy."

An explosive chhhh. "Not shy? Rem, fuck, I mean...I haven't even seen you shirtless."

"You have seen me shirtless. You watched me when I was changing."

"I wasn't—"

"You were."

"Ok, but for like one second. I barely even..." His eyes dropped to my chest, and his teeth pinched his lip.

"So that's what you want? To see me shirtless?"

"That is a miniscule part of what I want."

I drew a steadying breath. Heat coiled in my belly at the thought of everything he might be imagining right now... but we were both far too exhausted for that.

Instead, I climbed over him and settled down at his side. I reached toward him—then paused, studying his back. Soft hair, sleek lines, firm muscles. Despite the fatigue weighing me down, the sight excited me. Reining in the lust, I considered where to put my hand. My hand hovered over his hip, then traveled to his shoulder, never settling. He had told me he wanted me to touch him, but where? I didn't want to accidentally molest him while we were sleeping.

"Remgar," he murmured.

My hand froze. "Yeah?"

"You're overthinking this, aren't you?"

I pulled my arm back to my side with an embarrassed laugh. "I mean, I—"

He flipped toward me, draped an arm over my chest, and scooted in close. Close. His firm torso pressed against mine in multiple places, which I might have been able to ignore, but when his thigh slid between mine, I barely suppressed a moan. It was only thanks to my utterly depleted energy that my body did not immediately inform him what was going on in my mind.

Oh, nevermind, there it was. My face burned with humiliation. First Guardian, this man had been half-dead not long ago, and my erection was jabbing him in the thigh.

I cleared my throat. "Just for the record...I wanted to touch you so I could feel you're still alive and well. Not for...this."

"Not for what?"

His voice was infuriatingly unaffected. How could he remain so unaffected while I was swept away by...

Oh. Oh. He wasn't unaffected. With his front pressed against my front, I could feel his arousal just as well as he could feel mine.

Fighting a grin, I said, "I'm pretty sure you know what I mean."

"Oh, you mean that? That's just something that always happens to Demons before they fall asleep."

"Isalio, I might not know everything about Demons, but that is a condition I know plenty about."

"I don't know what you're talking about." His voice somehow remained aloof. "Please explain."

Why had I fallen for someone so utterly maddening? With the frustration emboldening me, I reached between us, skimming his taut chest and abs inches from my own.

"I'm talking about this."

"I don't under—"

His voice cut off with a moan as I caressed the front of his pants, barely grazing the bulge there. I remembered the feel of that full member in my mouth, the taste of him, the thrill of watching him melt against me...

When I removed my hands, he managed a panting retort. "That's just cruel."

"As if you haven't done the same."

"So you aspire to be like a Demon?"

I chuckled, letting my hand drop onto his hip. "I guess being like this particular Demon wouldn't be so bad."

But his hip wasn't much better than where my hand had been a second ago. My fingers now just brushed the side of his perfectly sculpted ass. I had grabbed that firm flesh while on my knees in front of him days ago, but I still hadn't seen him naked. Now an onslaught of images flooded my mind: what he'd look like naked, and how every part of him would react under my touch.

He told me he had never imagined a kiss could feel the way it did with me. Oh, I had so much more to show him.

I bit my tongue, mentally scolding myself. It was wrong to think of these things now when he'd just almost died; when we needed to stay focused on the plan; when we could both die soon if we weren't prepared to face the Morgabeast. But the wrongness just stoked the fire. My blood pumped faster, and the warmth all flowed straight to my throbbing cock.

I half-expected a smartass comment about my condition, but Isalio seemed to be using up all his energy just on breathing, short and fast puffs that brushed my face. Was he also imagining how I looked naked? Or imagining a different part of me touching his ass? Or imagining what he'd like to do with mine? You'd rather impale yourself on something else.

My ass clenched at the thought.

I gritted my teeth. "Fuck, maybe touching you was a bad idea."

His eyes opened, and he studied me with a slow smile. "I like this horny Remgar." At least this time, he didn't sound aloof—his own voice was raspy. "I should try almost-dying more often."

"You better try not dying in the Forest of Lost Beasts. As soon as you banish the Morgabeast, I'd be happy to demonstrate how horny I am for you."

"Do we have to wait until after, though?" Teasing, but still breathless. "Just in case things don't go well...I'd like to bed one more handsome man before I die."

I huffed a pained laugh. Fuck, how I wanted to give in. Unfortunately, we were both running on very little lifeforce and even less emotional energy. Even for new experiences with another Guardian who had a healthy view of sex, I would never proceed unless we were both fully alert. With Isalio, I knew the images running so freely through my imagination would require enormous caution and care in reality. We needed to sleep right now and recharge our lifeforce in the morning.

But then a different thought occurred to me.

"Jafflu told me everyone bathes before leaving the Mantle," I said. "'No filth comes in and no filth goes out.' So, maybe we should exchange lifeforce while bathing. Anyway, the exchange works better when our emotions are running high."

In my head, the argument was quite logical—though I wasn't sure which head I was listening to.

He arched an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"For the sake of duty." Neither of my heads believed me on that.

"The bathing springs are fully public," Isalio said slowly. "Anyone could walk in at any moment."

"Yeah, we probably won't be able to do much," I agreed, reluctantly. "But we can exchange lifeforce skin-to-skin...and you can see me shirtless."

"Deal."

I raised my eyebrows at him, but he had already closed his eyes and relaxed into me. It must have been a new record: the fastest I had ever made Isalio agree to any of my plans. Maybe I should have saved seeing me shirtless as a bargaining chip for a more important argument.

I let my own eyes slide shut, and fatigue overpowered the lust. The points of contact between us became comforting instead of stimulating, and the tension seeped out of my body.

But just before I could fall asleep, Isalio whispered, "Remgar?"

Slowly, I opened my eyes. His eyes were still shut, and for a second, I thought I'd imagined his voice, but then he spoke again.

"Did you check my pulse?"

"Huh?"

"You said I stopped breathing. Did you check if my heart was still beating?"

I shook my head, fighting off the now persistent pull of sleep. "No."

He clucked his tongue. "You didn't even bother to—fuck, and you call me reckless. You know you can't revive the dead, right? It wouldn't work, and you'd die trying."

"Hmm."

"This is serious. If I die, you can't try to bring me back. Please, swear it."

"Sure, I'll swear that—if you swear you won't die."

He hissed an exhale. "You're a fool."

"I'm the fool you need."

That was met by a disparaging snort—but no protest. Maybe he fell asleep before he could come up with anything. A few seconds later, I was asleep too.