The Legend Of Mirntha

Chapter - 178

Jacob awoke to the sensation of something warm and wet pressed against his chest.

For a few moments, the world was a haze of soft light and dull aches. He blinked, vision blurry, his limbs heavy as stone. Slowly, color returned—vivid greens, blue, the smoky grey of the clouds above—and then sound: the quiet murmur of wind, a muffled sob, the rustle of cloth.

Then he felt it.

A trembling body curled against his own. Warm tears soaking into his tunic. Sobs wracking slender shoulders, barely restrained. A pair of strong arms clutched him with a desperation that spoke of grief turned to disbelief.

"Althea...?" he croaked, his voice raw, barely more than air.

At once, the sobs stopped. She jolted upright, her face flushed and wet with tears, and stared at him like he'd risen from the grave—which, in a way, he had.

"Jacob?" she breathed.

He managed the smallest nod.