The smoke is so thick now, it blears my eyes, my lungs struggling to breathe. I know I have only a sliver of time before I die from inhaling this much smoke, but so does Lucien. And he does not grow back. The heat slicks my skin with sweat, and I stagger as I draw close to the hat shop. The fire condenses here in a suffocating pit, the eye of the inferno. A building collapses as I pass, wood and tile crashing to the ground, and sharp screaming cuts through the fire’s roaring as people pour out from the building’s basement, led by a familiar figure in black leather.

He’s still alive! Thank the gods! My unheart soars, the hunger mocking it.

traitor.

“Go!” Lucien bellows, motioning to the open road away from South Gate, and not needing to be told twice, the people flee, aprons and coats clutched to their mouths and noses. Lucien’s cowl protects him somewhat but not enough, and I watch in horror as he immediately turns to enter another burning building. I dash up to him and pull his arm.

“Hey! Your Foolishness!”

Lucien staggers, his eyes widening. “You—what are you doing here?”

“Vacationing! What do you think?” I shout. “We need to get out of here!”

The black witchfire flickers off his darker hair. He says nothing, his eyes flat. He’s not wearing the princely mask or purposefully ignoring me, he’s…not seeing me. His eyes are unfocused, glassy. Before I can ask what’s wrong, he turns, going for another building on fire.

“Oh no you don’t!” I lunge for him, pulling him back by the arm. To my surprise, his body gives easily, with so little resistance he nearly staggers backward into me. He’s panting, sweating, and clutching my arm like it’s the last rung of a ladder dangling over a pit. How long has he stayed here, helping people out of the fire? He’s on the edge of exhaustion—his heart for his people bigger than his body can sustain.

“Hold on!” I shout, lacing his arm over mine and shouldering his weight as I lead him backward. We need fresh air, and fast.

“You,” Lucien murmurs, his face so close to mine I can see the sweat carving over his cheekbones. “Do you hate me?”

“Right, yes—because now is a great time to discuss our relationship! When everything is on literal fire!” I snap, dragging him over the cobblestones. “Where in the afterlife is a super-strong beneather when you need him?”

Through the loud cracking noises of fire-eaten buildings and the blood thrumming in my own ears, I startle at the feel of something smooth and callused on my cheek. A hand. Lucien’s hand, missing a glove and resting there lightly as his unfocused eyes focus on me all at once.

“Please—stay in my dreams, at least.”