“When’s the last time you ate, Harper?” I ask. Her gaze flicks to me and lingers. There’s something unspoken there, waiting, but she pushes past it.
“It’s been a while,” she says finally, voice small, the admission collapsing out of her like it costs something.
Sebastian presses a soft kiss to her forehead, the kind he uses to wordlessly apologize for things he never says aloud.
Theo rises with purpose, reaching out until his fingers find her arm and curl gently around it. “Come on,” he says, steady despite everything. “Let’s get you both something real to eat.”
He tests her weight against him, adjusting easily. “Liam wants to walk, and I’m not strong enough to hold him up,” he adds in Sebastian’s direction, “but her? That I can do.”
There’s a challenge buried in his tone, subtle but unmistakable. A boundary. Sebastian hears it; he doesn’t fight. Instead he kisses Harper, lingering longer than necessary, as if fearful she’ll vanish when he pulls away. Her answering smile is thin, brittle at the edges. It doesn’t touch her eyes.
“Go on,” I say, shifting to get my feet beneath me. “We’ll meet you when I’m not moving like I’m made of wet parchment.”
A groan escapes me as my weight settles through my legs, but I don’t miss the movement beside Harper’s chair, a sliver of black leather peeking from beneath the cushion. She sees me notice and, with the laziest casualness I’ve ever witnessed from her, nudges it deeper into hiding. Too deliberate to be accidental. I pretend not to see, the unspoken agreement holding between us: she’ll tell me when she’s ready.
Sebastian loops my arm over his shoulder and helps me toward the hall. Once we’re clear of the ward, he exhales hard, scraping a hand through his hair until it sticks out messily.
“Is Harper okay?” I ask, adjusting my pace to match his.
He scoffs, frustration knotting itself in his voice. “She’s been off ever since Ares showed up. It’s like she’s constantly bracing for something, around everyone.” His grip on me tightens. “I hate watching her like that.”
I bite back the instinct to defend her or Ares. “Me nearlydying might have something to do with it,” I say instead, a touch sharper than I intend.
Sebastian’s shoulders drop a fraction. “I know, Liam. I know. I’m sorry.” He sighs, the exhaustion bleeding through the breath. “There’s just… a lot happening with Anne. And I’m not handling any of this the way I want to.” His voice lowers. “And then he shows up. Doesn’t it feel strange to you?”
“Everything feels strange,” I reply honestly. “You resurrect a man once, maybe it’s fate. Twice? At that point I think the universe is laughing at us.”
That draws a real smile from him. Small, but real.
“Maybe I should take a page out of your book,” he says. “Live in the chaos instead of fighting it.”
We step into the main corridor, sunlight scattering across the polished floor. Both of our stomachs let out equally pathetic growls, as though in synchronized protest of being ignored for far too long.
“Well,” I say, straightening my posture with mild triumph, “seems our bodies have decided for us.”
Sebastian chuckles, guiding us toward the dining hall and, finally, breakfast.
HARPER
Theo and I stop in the common room long enough for me to change into something less flimsy. Every movement sends a faint throb through my bruises. My side still burns from the poacher’s blade, and the cauterized skin pulls uncomfortably each time I breathe. I peel off my old shirt and pull on a fitted black undershirt that clings just enough to remind me I’mstill alive. Then grey trousers, soft at the seams, and finally a sweater that settles across my shoulders like a heavy exhale.
When I tie my hair back, my reflection in the mirror catches me off guard. Hollow eyes. Bruised cheekbones. A tension around my mouth that never seems to fade. Those drawings, Ares’s drawings, were wishful thinking, illustrations of someone calmer, fuller, softer than the fractured thing staring back at me.
He’s delusional if he thinks I look anything like that.
I push the thought away and hook my arm through Theo’s as we head for the exit. He bumps my hip like he’s trying to coax me back into the world.
“You hungry?” he asks, reaching out to poke my rib cage in a teasing jab.
His finger meets bone, actual bone, and he recoils instantly, horrified. “I didn’t think I’d actually feel it.”
A small, reluctant smile breaks across my face. “I don’t think anyone thought they would.”
We walk toward the dining hall, the warm scent of pastries thickening the air with every step. By the time we push open the doors, the aroma is so intoxicating my stomach twists in anticipation.
Inside, Liam is devouring everything in sight. Literally. There’s a half-demolished pile of food in front of him, and Sebastian sits beside him looking equal parts amused and terrified. Liam waves at us with the enthusiasm of someone who has never once known embarrassment.
I lean toward Theo. “Your boy is inhaling every edible object. I’m pretty sure he ate Sebastian’s plate.”
