Cyrus crossed to me, his broad frame blocking out the rest of the room. You know what that means.
Tell me.
Means I’ll be making calls you hate, he said bluntly. When corruption jumps during the redirection, I’ll burn it. Even if it’s attached to someone you know. Someone you care about. I’ll choose the system over individuals because that’s my role.
My throat tightened. I know.
Do you? His amber eyes held mine. Because when it happens—when I have to burn corruption off someone you want to save, when I have to enforce the boundary you set—you’re going to hate me for it.
I won’t—
You will, he interrupted.
No. He was wrong. I could handle it. I had to handle it…but the knot in my throat didn’t agree.
In the moment, he said, when you’re watching someone die because I chose the system over them, you’ll hate me. And I need to know if you still want me there anyway.
The question hung between us.
Yes, I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I still want you there.
Even if I have to choose the system over someone you love?
Even then.
Something shifted in his expression, not relief but acceptance.
We’re going to carry this, he said quietly. Whatever happens, whoever we can’t save, we carry it together.
Together, I agreed.
His arms came around me, solid and protective, but also vulnerable in a way Cyrus rarely allowed.
I’m scared, he admitted against my hair. Not of dying. Of having to be the one who enforces the choice. Of watching you break because I did what you asked me to do.
I’m scared too, I whispered back. Of making the choice. Of living with who it doesn’t save.
We stood there in the empty training hall, holding each other beneath the weight of what we’d agreed to.
This wasn’t reassurance or comfort. It was something harder—a shared understanding that solstice would break something in both of us.
And we had chosen it with open eyes.
26
Cyrus
FOUR DAYS UNTIL SOLSTICE, AND my cousin was missing.
Her parents called twenty minutes ago, my father said through the portal connection. His voice carried that particular edge that meant family crisis intersecting with larger strategic problems. Aurora left sometime during the night. They’ve checked her usual haunts. Nothing.
I was already moving toward the door, Ember flaring on my shoulder. She came here.
You’re certain?
She’s been asking about Raven for two weeks. Wanting to help. Wanting to do something besides sit in a safe house while the world ends. I grabbed my coat. Medical center. That’s where she’d go.
My father was quiet for a moment. Find her. Keep her safe.
