Cristian was far away.
Too far.
I pushed myself upright, blinking spots out of my vision. My head buzzed, my stomach twisted, and every part of me felt like it had been unplugged from a power source I hadn’t known I was relying on until it was gone.
“Cristian?” I croaked.
No answer.
I slid out of bed, limbs shaky as I left my room. Gripping the banister, I stumbled downstairs. The living room lights were on. The kitchen was empty.
Cristian wasn’t there, but Cassian was.
He sat on the couch like he’d been waiting—elbow on the armrest, ankle crossed over knee, flipping through one of my sticky-note-filled teacher planners with morbid fascination.
He looked up when he heard me. “You’re conscious. Good.”
My breath hitched. “Where is he?”
Cassian tilted his head. “You’re pale.”
“Don’t do that,” I snapped. “Don’t deflect. I feel terrible. Wrong. Like something is… missing.” My voice broke. “Where is Cristian?”
Cassian closed the planner slowly. “Sit down.”
“No,” I said, stepping toward him. “Tell me where he is.”
Something flickered across his face—not cruelty or amusement. More… pity.
“He’s not close enough for you to feel him,” he said gently. “That’s why you’re ill.”
My stomach dropped.
“Where,” I repeated, “is Cristian?”
Cassian sighed in resignation. “He’s gone to the Sovereign Court.”
Ice ran through my blood. “Why?”
“To give them what they’ve always wanted,” he said. “To offer himself to their life-force circle in exchange for them telling him how to break the bond with you.”
I stared at him. “No.”
“Yes.”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“He would,” Cassian said, voice quiet. “And he has. For you.”
The room swayed under my feet.
“He didn’t even tell me,” I whispered.
“He knew you’d try to stop him. And he wasn’t wrong.”
I gripped the back of the couch to keep my balance. “Cassian, that ritual will kill him.”
“Eventually, yes.”
