He didn’t know if he was going the right way—just that he had to move. That Thane was out there somewhere. That he had to reach him.
The thought of Thane pulled him forward. He followed it blindly.
The houses blurred by, unfamiliar and looming. He passed a streetlamp and had to lean against it, panting. He thought about stopping. Just for a moment. Just to lay down. It would be so easy. The pavement looked so flat, so still.
His leg buckled once. Then again. The third time, it gave way completely—and this time, he couldn’t stop it.
He pitched forward, caught himself against something cold and solid. Metal bars.
The gate?
He couldn’t tell.
A voice spoke near him, urgent and sharp, but it was muffled through the roaring in his ears, the tide of his own failing body rising up to drown him. He opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t find words. The pain was everywhere. So was the cold.
“Thane,” he slurred, barely audible.
That was all he could give before the darkness took him.
Chapter 48
When Riven woke, it was to the unfamiliar feel of clean sheets and filtered light. Another strange room. Another strange bed. But this time, the pain was little more than a shadow.
He blinked up at the ceiling, momentarily disoriented, and then tried to sit.
A firm hand pressed against his chest before he’d even managed to rise. “Don’t be an idiot,” came Aeris’s voice, clipped and dry. “Back down.”
Riven sank immediately. Relief hit him in a wave. Aeris meant safety. Aeris meant he’d made it—somehow—all the way back to House Virellien.
He exhaled shakily, let his head fall back to the pillow. “Thane,” he rasped. “Has he—was he here?”
Aeris snorted and crossed their arms. “Was he here? Please. He was the one who carried your sorry ass in. You were half-dead at the front gate and the guards didn’t even have time to finish reporting it before he was already storming down to collect you himself.”
Riven’s chest tightened. The image came unbidden—Thane, eyes like steel, arms curled around him like a shield. “He brought me in?”
“Personally,” Aeris said. “Growling at anyone who got too close.”
Riven stared up at the ceiling again, stunned. “How long?”
“Two days,” Aeris replied. “You lost a lot of blood. If it weren’t for me being the miracle of modern medicine that I am, you wouldn’t have made it. Between the gunshot wound, the sedatives still working through your system, and the whole dying-on-his-feet thing you were pulling, it’s a wonder you’re not in a coma.”
Riven blinked. “Two days…”
“You’ve been in and out. Fevered for most of it. Thane has come and gone, mostly to check in for updates, but he never stayed gone for long.”
Riven let the silence stretch, not sure how to respond to that. A knot formed in his throat. He swallowed it down.
“How bad is it?” he asked finally.
“You’ll live,” Aeris said. “You’re stable, the wound’s fully closed, and the wards are doing what they’re supposed to. Give it another day or two before you try something heroic.”
Before Riven could answer, the infirmary door creaked open.
Thane stepped inside, and everything in Riven stilled.
The room, the world, all of it shrank to the man in the doorway. He looked exhausted—still dressed in black, but with the jacket undone and his dark hair pushed back from his face like he hadn’t bothered to tame it in hours. Maybe days. But his eyes were sharp, locked immediately onto Riven.
Relief slammed through Riven like a drug. Regret followed close behind, curling deep in his gut. He thought of how they’d left things—of everything that had gone unsaid.
