I knew I had died. The second before my eyes had closed in that meadow had been wholly different from fainting. It wasn’t the same sensation as sleep or unconsciousness. At first, I’d hovered under the surface of my skin, not really connected, but not entirely detached either. I could sense my mate somehow, could detect the embers of his being inside me before I started to rise, observing my body sprawled out on the bed, but as shapes and shadows—a feeling—not an actual picture. I was aware just enough to perceive the journey between the planes of existence, my soul clinging on with everything it had, but then… nothing.

No darkness, no afterlife, just… nothing.

It was surreal, but once I’d entered that state, the world had ceased to exist. I didn’t know how long I’d been gone, didn’t feel pain or hardship until I woke up. I couldn’t imagine what it had been like from the other side of the glass—without that shield of nothingness to numb the suffering—but seeing Cair’s reaction, hearing in his voice the trauma he’d endured, it was clearly a manifestation of living hell.

Placing a kiss on the tip of my nose, Cair returned to his sitting position, where he descended into a sort of trance. He looked so lost, a shred of the confident, headstrong Fae he’d portrayed since the day we met. His expression flitted between confusion and disbelief, his weary eyes fixed on me and scarcely blinking, like he was unable to let me out of his sights.

Or he was replaying the scene, over and over and⁠—

“Cair,” I said, breaking his concentration. “You’re not dreaming.”

Lucidity came back to him, a glimmer of shame passing over his face as he nodded and took my hand in his again. He sank into another silence.

My gaze drifted up to the ceiling once more, my eyes stinging and nose stuffy, but those sensations were soon forgotten as my body progressed in its reboot. Apparently, returning my uninhibited thoughts before I could even wiggle my toes or the emotional whirlwind had balanced itself out was what my nervous system felt was in my best interest. Go figure. In all seriousness, was it too soon to pry into the details of my demise? Probably. My lack of filter was a curse at the best of times, but at that moment, it would be downright insensitive. Cair needed more time to prepare for the interrogation that my brain was currently drafting a script for. He was used to my inquisitiveness, and he loved listening to each new interest I rambled on about, but the last thing I wanted was to cause him any more misery by poking at an already gaping wound.

I’d have to make a conscious effort to think before I spoke.