And the bleeding won’t stop.
Vale and I plead with him to fight. Ace’s head rolls back, his body frighteningly limp, his breathing ragged and shallow. I don’t let up. I keep pressure on the wound, even as the storm outside begins to fade. Rain still drifts through the shattered windows, gentler now, as if the world itself is weeping with me.
The healers arrive swiftly—but not swiftly enough. They exchange grim looks, murmuring that the wound is far too severe for a single strike. They insist on moving him to their wards, where urgent work must be done.
I beg to go with them. To stay. To keep my hands on him.
They refuse. Odrin insists Vale and I move somewhere secure.
Unable to follow at Ace’s side, I steel myself the only way I know how. I drop to my knees in the wreckage, heedless of shattered glass and lingering rain. I dig through soaked parchment and splintered wood until my fingers close around cold metal.
I do not ease until the seal lies in Odrin’s own hands.
My body trembles as we are ushered through the corridors. Sound dulls. The world contracts to the echo of our footsteps and the copper scent clinging to my skin.
When the chamber door closes behind us, a full battalion stationed outside, I begin to pace frantically. My gown is soaked through with blood, as are Vale’s shirt and trousers. He begins to remove the shirt—the one thing still within his control. He knows me well enough to understand I will come to his arms when I am ready.
But not yet.
Now I am nothing but fury and fear too feral to be contained.
He tosses the ruined garment aside and moves to the basin, washing the blood from his abdomen where he clutched Ace. Despite the cloth offered by some faceless guard who ushered me here, my hands remain stained red. I do not wipe away my tears. To smear Ace’s blood across my face would shatter me completely.
I begin to slow only when Vale wrings out the cloth, water running pink into the shallow bowl.
“He’s in the best hands possible,” he says, his voice quiet but hopeful. “They’ll come to us as soon as there’s word.”
The ache in his voice breaks the spell holding me apart. If anything can stop me from drowning in my own despair, it is the sight of someone I love in need.
Vale doesn’t need to be comforted. We will bear this pain together. But what he does need—what he has always needed—is to know I am cared for.
I force the tide of emotion back as best I can and join him at the basin. He pours water over my hands, wiping gently with the cloth, though the red still lingers in every crease of my skin, every line of my knuckles.
At last my gaze drops to the gown.
Fear churns in my stomach. No one can survive losing that much blood.
Without warning, I begin to claw at the fabric, ripping it away from my body. I need it off.
Now.
Vale steps forward to help, but my movements are wild, frantic. When the gown finally falls away, blood still stains my skin, and I collapse to my knees.
He wraps a robe around me, then his arms, sheltering me though the danger has already passed. I sob until my chest aches, gasping through the senselessness of it all.
“Ace is fighting for his life,” I choke, “and for what? Power?”
Vale only shakes his head as the questions spill free. I know he must have a thousand of his own—charging in only to find a member of his own council with a blade at my throat.
“How did you find me?” I ask at last. “How did you know?”
He is quiet for a long moment.
“I heard you,” he says finally. “Or felt you. I’m not sure.” His arms tighten around me. “But it was as clear as the night of the solstice. You were in danger. No force on this earth could have kept me from you. I didn’t have to search. I knew.”
A shiver runs through me. Whatever magic calls to me, whatever forces I answer, I pray they spare Ace.
“All of these gifts,” I whisper. “All these blessings—and I couldn’t stop the bleeding.”
