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There was really only one scar that mattered anyway.

She peeled the neckline of her tunic aside and saw the evidence of her bondmark, those faint crescents still in place where her neck met her shoulder, exactly where it belonged. She skated the pad of her finger over the mark, and a flash of emotion pulsed down the bond so fast, she wasn’t sure how to name it. She thought she might’ve heard a thud from the other side of the door, though, followed by a low hiss, like the kind that accompanied the stubbing of a toe.

Elyria gave her reflection a bewildered shrug. Whether thanks to the sylvan healers or the days of rest—four fucking days of it—or just being in Cedric’s presence, Elyria Lightbreaker simply looked like . . . herself.

And that was almost enough to make her break right then and there.

Cedric was sitting on the edge of the bed when Elyria exited the bathing chamber. He bolted to his feet in an instant, wringing his hands, bouncing slightly. Nervous, jittery. And Elyria couldn’t help but think that this was a bit extreme, even for her Sir Worrywart.

She sucked on her teeth as she watched him. “What’s wrong?”

“What?” he said, too fast. “What do you mean? Why would anything be wrong?” He closed the distance between them and took her hands in his, pressing a kiss to the back of both sets of knuckles. “Everything’s right, now that you’re here. Now that you’re awake. Everything will be fine.”

Her brow arched. “Why wouldn’t it be fine?”

“So you don’t remember how we got here or what has happened since we arrived,” he blurted. “How about what happened before I arrived at Castle Lumin? Do you remember⁠—”

“Fortunately or unfortunately, I remember everything right up until the moment we fled,” she said with a grimace. “Just nothing after that.” A thought occurred. “Is Raefe . . . ?”

Cedric gave a sad sort of shrug before saying, “I do not know.”

Elyria was surprised at the strength of the wave of sorrow that rolled through her. But then there was another thought, another memory. “Four hells. Sid! Where is she? Is she⁠—”

“She’s fine,” Cedric said soothingly, drawing her against him. She laid her cheek on his chest once more and breathed in his calming, charred sandalwood scent. “Better than fine, really. She took us all the way to the Elderglade entrance, then slipped into the shadows and, I assume, is back to doing whatever it is she does when left to her own devices.”

Elyria blew out a long breath.

Cedric inhaled an even longer one. “You have no idea the relief I felt when she emerged from the ether at Castle Lumin, Elle.”

“Oh, I think I have some idea,” Elyria said into his shirt. “There isn’t a word strong enough to encompass the satisfaction I felt seeing her claws rip down Malakar’s face.”

Cedric released a chuckle, though Elyria could tell it was only half-hearted. “Well, yes, that too, of course. But I meant . . .”

She pulled back slightly to look at him, her head tilted. “You meant what?”

“After you were taken, it seemed like she had started to . . . revert. Regress? It was like she was getting smaller and smaller with each passing day. When last I’d seen her before she emerged at Castle Lumin, she was barely bigger than the day you created her. I didn’t know if she would disappear entirely soon. And I thought . . .”

“You thought it meant I was disappearing too.”

He nodded.

“Maybe I was,” she said sadly, crushing her face to his chest once more. “I think that if you hadn’t come exactly when you did, even if my body had kept me alive, I think . . . I think my soul was dying. Every minute in that place, with my power suppressed and our connection cut off, and forced to be there with him . . .”

Anger and heartbreak pulsed down the bond in equal measure, pressing in on Elyria from the inside. From the way Cedric’s grip tightened around her, she knew her knight was trying very hard to keep it all from spilling over.

She could relate to that inclination.

“It’s all right,” she said soothingly down the bond, trying to send calm and reassurance to him. “Like I said, you were right on time.”

“By the stars, you should not be the one comforting me.” He cleared his throat. “You forgive me too easily.”

“There is nothing to forgive. I’m the one who chose to—” Her thoughts stuttered. She swallowed. “I chose to go with him.”

And then Elyria was in motion, an arm sliding behind her knees as Cedric scooped her up and deposited her back on the bed. He sat down next to her, taking one of her hands and interlacing their fingers, like he was scared she might float away if he wasn’t holding her down.

The bond between them thrummed, her chest filling with his love and adoration and, yes, a little bit of pity and a lot of heartbreak—all rippling down the tether between them.

She was feeling too much.