I gasp and fall forward. Croesus catches me, pulling me against his chest. His heart is racing against my cheek. Through the binding, I feel his emotions, relief so profound it's almost painful, lingering terror, and that something else that’s been there more and more. Something that feels like love.
"You're alive," he breathes into my hair. "You're alive. Don't ever do that again."
"Wasn't... planning on it..."
Around us, the fighting has stopped. I lift my head enough to see that the entrance hall is empty of shadow walkers. The tears in reality have sealed. Bodies of Croesus's guards lie scattered, but most are moving, getting up, checking wounds.
We won.
Barely.
"How many?" Croesus asks, not to me. His voice is cold again, controlled. The vulnerable moment already passing.
Nat appears from somewhere, blood on his face but otherwise intact. "Seven breached the wards. All destroyed. We have injuries but no deaths among the guard." His silver eyes find me. "She tried to absorb one."
"I know." Croesus's arms tighten around me. "Raven, collectors aren't creatures. They're tools. Weapons. Someone sent them specifically to collect you."
"The same someone who killed my grandmother?" I say.
"Yes." He helps me stand, though his hands don't leave my shoulders. "And they just declared war."
Through the binding, I feel his rage crystallizing into something colder. More dangerous. Not hot fury but calculated vengeance.
"We're calling that meeting," he says. "Tonight. Emergency protocols. All seven houses." His gold eyes meet mine. "Because whoever sent those things has power we can't fight alone. And they know where you are."
I want to argue. Want to say I'm fine, that we can handle this ourselves.
But my hands are still shaking. My body still feels wrong, too cold in some places, too hot in others, like I'm not quite put back together correctly. And through the binding, I can feel that Croesus is barely holding himself together. The fear of losing me still echoing through his bones.
"Okay," I whisper. "Call them. All of them."
He nods once, then turns to Nat. "Send the summons. Neutral ground. Two hours from now. Tell them it's not a request. Even Caspian has to come."
Nat bows and disappears.
Croesus looks back at me, and for just a moment, his carefully constructed mask slips. "I almost lost you."
"But you didn't."
"This time." His hand cups my cheek. "But there will be a next time. And a time after that. Until we stop whoever is behind this."
"Then we stop them."
Through the binding, I feel his grim determination. His absolute refusal to let anyone hurt me.
And underneath it all, that thing he still won't say:
He loves me, andnd he will burn Heaven, Hell, and everything in between before he lets anyone take me from him.
"Can you walk?" he asks.
I test my legs. They hold. Barely. "Yeah."
"Good. Because you're about to see the six angels." His mouth quirks in something that's not quite a smile. "And I guarantee they're not going to like what they see."
"What will they see?"
His eyes meet mine, and through the binding I feel his possessiveness flare.
