Kashvi was silent for a long moment. She placed a hand on his shoulder, a firm squeeze and a deep bow, touching her forehead to his. Floorboards creaked as she left the room, closing the door behind her.
Fi didn’t remember how to breathe. How to push words past numb lips.
“Fi.” Her name was too hushed on Boden’s lips. “What happened with Astrid?”
She opened her mouth a few times before sound came out. “Astrid?”
“You went after her?”
A lifetime ago. A matter of moments.
“I… let her go,” Fi said.
Boden’s brow creased.
“I let her go, Boden. She did so many bad things. I know she did. To us, to other people. But Verne hurt her so much. Hurther and used her, but even after all that, she was still Astrid. She deserves a second chance and…”
From too few words to too many. Fi gasped for air, but nothing was enough. Every breath, drenched with blood. Antal moved to her side like a phantom, tail curling around her leg.
Even that, not enough.
“You let her go.” Boden cracked a grin, bloody at the edges. “I’m… proud of you, Fi.” Each pause, tainted by a wheeze. “That must have been… so hard…”
No. No no no no no no no—
“Boden. Please. I’ll get the doctor. We cantry.” Fi had never begged like this: hands clenched against the bed, knees to floorboards, words quivering like pine needles in a gale.
Boden lifted a hand, smoothing his thumb over the crease of her brow.
“You always do this… when you get worried. When you’re trying not to cry. Always so strong, Fi. Stronger than you think you are.”
Fi couldn’t make her tongue work. Sandpaper in her mouth. Cotton swelling her eyes.
“And Antal.” Boden swallowed. “I… give you permission.”
Her heart stuttered, a flare of indignant fury to cling to in the maelstrom.
“Are youstillon about us sleeping together?” Fi snapped. “My intimate life is none of your business, Boden!”
“Fi.” Her name again. Too soft.
“And even if itwasyour business, we’ve got more important things to worry about!”
“Fi. Not that type of permission.”
She didn’t want to understand why her ears were ringing. Why her heart was thundering in her chest. Desperate for help, she looked up to Antal.
He fell still again. Wide-eyed again. Claws clenched and unclenched at his sides.
“Boden,” he said. “I could never…”
“You’re going to face Verne,” Boden said. “Soon, most likely. You need to be at full strength.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Fi said. “You’re beingridiculous, Boden.”
“This is the plan we agreed to!” Boden’s raised voice shook through him. A wheeze in his chest, a bloom of blood on his lips. He hunched, silent a moment. Then, in breathy words, “Feeding a daeyari without living sacrifices. That was the plan. Make it count.”
His words didn’t make any sense. They rattled in Fi’s teeth, curled barbs in her lungs. He couldn’t be saying this.
