“So it… we…” I fumble with my words, unable to process it. Some part of me whispers that she’s tricking me, just trying to talk me out of sacrificing myself in whatever way she can… but through that paranoia, a delicate hope blooms. “It’s over?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

“It’s over,” Scorpia says. She reaches to grab one of my hands and squeeze—and then abruptly drops it and punches me in the shoulder. “And even if it wasn’t, what the hell were you thinking? Don’t you ever try to do that again, you bastard!”

I grimace as the impact of her punch sends fresh waves of pain through my wounded side. Getting tackled and slapped around by Scorpia really hasn’t helped my injuries. Though I say nothing, my sister’s face creases in worry when she sees my expression, and her eyes find the wound on my side. She gasps.

“Oh, stars, you got stabbed.”

“Yeah. I realize.” I grit my teeth, pressing a hand to the wound.

“Shit, sorry. I’m sorry. Let’s clean you up.” She stands and carefully helps me to my feet, then slips one arm around my shoulders to help support me. Putting any amount of weight on my injured leg nearly makes me crumple again, so I lean gratefully into her.

“No,” I say, shaking my head to chase off the blackness threatening to close in on the edges of my vision. “Not until it’s really over. Take me to the cockpit and get the ship away from Nibiru. I want to see this through.”

“All right.” She squeezes my shoulders and begins to help me along. “Let’s finish this.”

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Countdown

Scorpia

By the time I get Corvus out to the cargo bay, Drom and Lyre are waiting for us. Drom is scuffed and singed, blood running down her face and one arm dangling limply at her side, but she’s still grinning wide enough that it’s hard to worry too much. Lyre leans against her for support, but though she looks exhausted and covered in dust from the air ducts, she seems unharmed. Both of their expressions light up as they see us emerge from the quarantine room but dim with concern as they see Corvus in such bad shape. I’m not in the greatest condition myself, with my hastily bandaged shoulder, but it’s obvious he’s much worse off.

“He all right?” Drom asks, stepping closer to help me support his weight with her good arm. I breathe a sigh of relief at the reprieve.

“I’m fine,” Corvus says, his voice weak and rasping.

“He’s hanging in there,” I say. My eyes find Orion’s form slumped next to his father’s, and I gasp. “Who the hell hurt Orion?”

“Relax,” Drom says. “He’s just unconscious.”

“He helped us, you know! He’s on our side!”