My heart pounded so hard I couldn’t breathe.

He had to be.

Akua freed the last binding at my ankle and then stepped back, gripping her arms to her body. I wobbled as I swung my legs over the edge of the table. No time to worry about being woozy or throbby or any of it. Not when Tair…

“Thank you.” I spared a last glance at Akua.

She shook her head. “I’m doing this. That’s where I draw the line.”

Still, I’d remember that she’d helped.

I hopped down, staggered, and then tore toward the room next door, stopping just a breath to drive my heel into Darren’s nose. He didn’t stir, but the crunch was as satisfying as ever.

When I barreled out, almost tipping over, the med team bastards jumped aside, all shocked and horrified I’d gotten free. “Open the door.”

A few edged away. I must look crazy.

I felt crazy. “Open it or I’m giving you what I gave Darren.” I smacked the wall to make my point.

“Just do it,” someone whispered. “The guards are coming anyway.”

Some hand made its way to the security panel and I didn’t care if they summoned all the guards in the building or Nagi or horned demons. The door opened.

I dashed inside.

Tair leaned limp against his chair.

This close, I could smell the blood. Angry, metallic blood.

I stumbled to him, a lump rising in my throat.

Dead.

I could see it before I got there. His chest motionless. Eyes made of cold glass.

My knees gave out in front of the chair. Not fair.

Not fair not fair not fair.

I slumped. My forehead hit the icy floor tiles.

Too late.

And this timeline…

All the Shadow Ravens. Eva.

Gods.

What had I done?

I pushed to my knees, trying to do… Something?

My thoughts weren’t working right. All I could see was Tair. Motionless.

His glasses sat on the tray of Darren’s bloodied tools. Instead of putting them back where they belonged, I slipped them on.

The frames hung loose on my face. A little smudged.

And glass.

Just clear glass. No tech.

I started to laugh, but the impulse died halfway up my throat. He didn’t need them anymore, did he?

At that thought, a page of time flipped front and center in my mind. I tried to push it away, but the moment in time wouldn’t be ignored.

Fine. I don’t care anymore.

The page layered over the present and I realized I’d seen part of this before. The first time we met. I just hadn’t seen the whole story.

Tair stands in front of a mousy girl in glasses, both of them in sparring gear and holding hook-tipped swords—him confidently, her shaking. He casts a disdainful look at some instructor past the scope of the vision. “She’s not ready for this.”