Derek was at her side before she'd finished falling, one arm round her waist, taking her weight.
"Are you hurt?"
"No." She was breathing hard, her hands still glowing faintly, the light draining back down into her fingers. "No, I'm all right. Give me a second."
"You're grey."
"I'm fine." She let out a deep breath, and something in her chest finally, finally let go. She looked at the scorch mark on the floor and let herself feel it. "It's over, Derek. That's it. It's actually over."
He held her a moment longer, kissing the top of her head. "It is, my love. You did an excellent job."
Derek slowly and carefully lifted Kira off the floor and carried her in a bridal style, despite her protest that she was fine.
They came up out of the throne room and took the main stairs down towards the ballroom, and Kira leaned on him, relaxing her body— the amount of power she had used to destroy Jake had drained her more than she wanted to admit.
"I'm scared for the twins," Derek whispered.
