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“Cyrus?” I sat up to find those heavily lidded citrines. My weak healing magic flickered over the knife wound in his shoulder.

Jo’s knees hit the silt, Kenna beside her, snapping me out of our bubble. I scrambled backward and landed on my ass to clear their space.

Each healer claimed a patient. God, I hated this helplessness. The two men who meant the most to me were lying on a riverbank after falling—or diving—off a fucking waterfall.

Battered. Bleeding. Riddled with knife wounds. Only God knew whether the healers could put Cyrus’ wings back together. How were we supposed to move him like that? Where was Moros? How had they gotten out of the water? Where the hell was Carrson?

I wiped the tears from my face and reminded myself I was a goddamn Commander. Time to get my shit together.

Sniffling, I forced myself upright and turned toward the prickle of heat at my cheek.

Atreus and Viktor stood beside Kade, who was doing a terrible job holding their attention. Viktor at least tried to answer his questions. Atreus’ eyes stayed fixed on Cyrus.

Understanding softened his face when he finally looked at me. His mouth tightened. Then he nodded and backed away.

“Atreus,” I breathed, taking a staggering step closer.

“I get it.” His mouth twisted with reluctant resignation, hands lifting in surrender. “I just… Are you okay?”

Chin wobbling, eyes burning, I nodded. He forced a smile that convinced nobody, then jerked his chin toward the men behind me. “And them?”

“Breathing.” God, I sounded pathetic. Broken and weepy and weak. I hated it.

He nodded back in their direction again. “She’s a Hadi?”

Kenna. “Yeah. One of Nathara’s girls.”

“They’re in good hands, chaos. They’ll be right as rain.”

To my shock, Atreus opened his arms. I crossed to him and bowed my head against his chest, fists knotted in his shirt as the first light of sunrise touched my face.

Tentatively, he rested his chin on my head and tightened his hold. “We’ll talk.”

Nodding, I fought to swallow, but couldn’t find words.

“I mean it, Freya. I’ll wake your fine ass up tomorrow morning.”

With a sniffle, I pulled back, still nodding like an idiot.

“’Kay. I’m gonna go help up top.” His hands slid to my biceps and squeezed. “We’ll talk.”

“We’ll talk,” I echoed. He nodded, his too-perfect mouth twisting with too-understanding resignation.

Kade sidled up beside me, and we watched the prince and his light wielder start up the mountain.

“Marlana?” I asked, mostly to punch a hole through the silence.

“Gone, I fear,” he grumbled in that honey-thick accent.

I sighed. “The blight?”

“Is doing as blights do.”

Awesome. Another thing I couldn’t set right.

“Thank you.”

His attention shifted to my face. In this circle, I doubted he was used to anyone but August offering him anything resembling gratitude.