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companions. Elide and Lorcan and Gavriel.
They’d all been on that beach where
everything had gone to hell.
Her magic surged, and she rolled her
shoulders, willing it to sleep, to wait—just a
while longer.
She was here. They were both here.
What could she ever say to him, to explain
it, to make it right? That he’d been used so
foully, had suffered so greatly, because of
her?
There was blood on him. So much blood,
soaking into his dark clothes. From the smears
on his neck, the arcs under his fingernails, it
seemed he’d tried to wash some off. But the
scent remained.
She knew that smell—who it belonged to.
Her spine tightened, her limbs tensing.
Working past her clenched jaw, she inhaled
sharply. Forced a long breath out through her