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"Theryn isn't dead."

He looks at me. Not hopeful. Careful. "I know what you said."

"I'm saying it again."

"Why."

"Because you keep looking like you're planning to kill something."

His mouth twitches without humor. "I am."

"Great."

"Eventually."

"Even better." I step closer. Not much. "She's somewhere." His gaze stays on mine. "So are the others." Maybe. The thought changes him. Not relief.

Purpose. Good. "We find them." Not a promise. Not certainty. Something else.

Rhyven studies me. Then nods once. "We do." Actions. Always actions. I start left. Then his voice stops me. "Eirea." I turn. His expression has gone irritatingly unreadable again.

"What?"

A pause. "Three-Zero-Four."

I wait. "What about it?"

"Lock the door."

I stare. "Of course I'm locking the door."

"Good."

"Rhyven."

"What."

"There will be wardkeepers outside."

"I know."

"Chiefs everywhere."

"I know."

"You're literally across the hall."

His jaw tightens. "Exactly." Oh. There it is. Not subtle. Not tonight.

I feel my mouth curve despite myself. "Goodnight, Corvell."

"Goodnight." I walk away. And I don't tell him that knowing he'll be across the hall tomorrow makes me feel safer too. That seems like information he absolutely does not need. Not yet.

I sleep for three hours. Technically. My body lies in bed. My eyes close. Time passes. I refuse to call what happens between those things sleep. Every time I drift...Theryn returns. Not her disappearance. Before.

The grass beneath enormous claws. The warm

certainty of Eddy through their bond. Protect. Move. Run. Then hunger. And every time I wake, I need several seconds to remember that the massive empty thing inside my chest isn't mine. It belonged to her. Maybe still does.