“I’ll see what I can do.”

His shoulders sagged, and he gave her a small smile. “Thank you, my lady.”

Selene turned and headed down the hallway, her emotions a tangled knot inside of her, causing her stomach to clench. What do I do? How do I help someone? Do I talk to him? Dart’an, I don’t even know what to say! Maybe I should head to my own room.

But she couldn’t do that. The weight of that thought was even heavier. So she bypassed her own door and stopped in front of the one that led into Damien’s room.

She stared at the thick grey door while the candles flickered in the sconces along the corridor. Her heart pounded inside her chest, a constant thump.

No, no more fear. She clenched her sweaty hands. I may not know what to say, but I want to help him, just like he offered to help me.

Before she could change her mind, Selene opened the door. The room was dark, save for a fire burning in the fireplace to the left, casting a warm orange light across the room. Damien stood on the other side of the room in front of the three large windows that overlooked the sea. His clothing and shadowed figure blended in with the darkening sky.

“Damien?” Selene said quietly, her fingers still curled around the edge of the door. He didn’t say a word or turn around. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

Selene swallowed and took a step. “I heard you were not feeling well.” Another step. “Taegis told me why.”

His body tensed.

“I . . . I don’t know what to say.” She bit her lip and looked down as she took another step. “I’ve never lost someone I loved.” Well, that wasn’t totally true. When she escaped from Rook Castle, she left those she would consider loved ones behind: Ophie, her father, the servants, her people, even Amara. Her mother’s face flashed before her eyes, but she blinked the image away.

What she wouldn’t give to have another nightly talk with her father in his study or to bring Ophie her favorite flower. Even to spar with Amara again.

Selene sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. Her eyelids grew hot as she continued—one step at a time—across the room.

She stopped a foot away from him and stared at the firm lines of his back, the way his dark hair slightly curled along his neck, his arms that were strong and yet gentle.

Something moved inside her heart.

She wanted to help this young lord who led the people of the Northern Shores with the power of his gift, this person who laughed and treated all people as his equals, this man who gave up the chance to marry all others in order to save the life of the very woman who had tried to kill him.

Selene closed the distance between them and snaked her arms beneath his, lacing them across his chest, and laid her cheek against the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wish I could take your pain away. I wish—” Her words were choked off by a sob. It felt like her heart had broken open, like a frozen river cracking beneath a spring sun and running again.