Lydia or the spirit that was the life’s spark of Lydia rose in the air, shifting like giant plasma. On the floor lay the rest of her flesh and for a split second, she admired the glossy black hair as it spread out in the growing pool of crimson. Her body was not quite dead. Her heart was clinging to life by a gossamer thread.<br/><br/>The essence of her power and energy worked around the room whispering, “Shenyo, join me.” She had little strength for volume and tending the tiny flame deep in the fallen woman. Would their love and connection prove enough to make him reach out for her?  Spirit had small concern over the condition of human fragility, yet, she winced as Milas punished Shenyo brutally with his fists and forearm.  The man who was beast displayed great resolve in removing himself from the sword which had him pinned to the wall. His steely reserve echoed in the room when he ground out that Milas would not…. But Lydia knew when he reached his tail out to wrap around the evil noble that this moment was the chance she, they needed.<br/><br/>This was the night within a day that the prophecy spoke of. Drawing a surge of energy, she flooded Shenyo, mingling their spirits in the same manner they mingled their bodies when they made love on the forest floor so many months ago. His tail began to glow and she breathed all of her life into him, with the exception of that one teeny spark that clung to her prostrate body.<br/>