He blinks, his eyes suddenly shiny as well. “We weren’t bonded long enough to feel the agony the way Jonas did, or even Felicity…”

I press my hand against his heart. “But you felt it? Felt him die?”

William’s expression goes distant. “Yes.”

I clutch his shirt in my hand. “And you still feel it. And that matters.”

“Thank you. He was a good man.”

“He was.” I give him a watery smile. “And funny.”

William chuckles. “Very funny. Always wearing that damn camo jacket.”

“Clear!” Sel calls from the driveway.

William moves toward the steps. As he reaches for the door, he says, “I’m sorry too, Bree.”

“For what?”

“For not finding a way to stop the Regents from hurting you sooner.”

“You saved me. You’re why I could resist Tacitus’s mesmer.”

His chin dips as he continues into the mess of a kitchen, but I don’t think he accepts my forgiveness. As he maneuvers us around the remnants of Jonas’s meal and the pantry items strewn on the floor, something fractures inside my chest for William. William, who was forced to watch them torture me. Who prioritizes consent. And who, against his every instinct, tortured a demon tonight for answers.

There are many things that I will make the Regents pay for, but breaking William, making him question himself, will be chief among them.

I swear it.

28

THE COUCH IS musty, and newly freed dust motes circle the air above my head.

But the cushions are soft, and my body is warm. I’m laid out flat, feet on one end and head propped up on the other. Alice leans over the back of the couch on her elbows to watch William work. Or watch what she can, anyway.

Sel is perched on the armrest. He sniffs the air. “She’s bleeding inside.”

“Ew,” Alice and I both mutter.

He raises a brow. “If I told you all the things I can smell and hear, you’d say a lot more than ‘ew.’ ”

Alice grimaces. “Ew again. With feeling.”

“Thank you for the announcement, Selwyn.” William shakes his head with a smile. His aether-coated hands hover down to my ribcage and side.

“You should talk.” Alice wrinkles her face at Sel. “You’re sitting there still oozing blood out of your shoulder.”

He glances down at his shirt, where the blood has dried and stuck to his skin around the still-open cut. “More upset about the jacket, to be honest.”

“Are you healing him next?” I ask William.

To my surprise, he shakes his head. “Merlins can’t be healed by my swyns.”

“What?” Alice and I both exclaim.

Sel glances between us, looking like he’s just tasted something sour. “Is this what the two of you are like all the time?”

“No,” we say, and smirk.