The cloudy haze in Seraphine's eyes began to clear. The terrifying cold of her skin rapidly vanished, replaced by a flush of feverish pink. The blue tint left her lips entirely.
She reached up. Her arms, which had been too weak to lift moments ago, wrapped tightly around his neck.
Her fingernails dug into his broad shoulders, anchoring herself to the man who was literally pumping life back into her soul.
"Leo," she sobbed, the sound muffled against his neck, "It was so cold... the dark... it was so cold."
"You're not going back to the dark," Leo growled, as another batch of mana cores materialized in his hands, "You belong to me. Even death has to ask my permission to touch you."
He kissed her again, a deep, devouring exchange.
Seraphine kissed him back with a sudden, ferocious hunger. The mana was working. Her internal pathways were rapidly rebuilding, fusing the shattered cracks with the purified Draconic energy.
