The events of the past two days are all too much.

Through the sickness that swirls inside me, I feel Red’s energy stir. There is fear laced through the thread linking us.

And a new warmth, too. Because in spite of everything, at least he is here with me again. At least the thrum of his presence in my mind is a reminder that I’m not alone.

I take a deep breath and remind myself that he and Jeran are out there. They are at my side, in spirit if not in person, and I am at theirs. And someday, we will be on the other side of this. I have to believe it.

The code for the arena’s holding room keys. Constantine keeps those keys with him now. But if he’s in his chambers sleeping, can I really get in there tonight, on a night when he’s restless from the drama of his own day? Can I really meet Red and Jeran tonight? What if I can’t get the code for the Strikers’ key? What if Constantine finds out?

I close my eyes. Count. Minutes drag on, turn into hours. I don’t know how long. I push myself up off my knees and go to the sink, where I splash water on my face and rinse out my mouth. The sour aftertaste fades from my tongue, and my head clears a bit.

Only then do I realize that the spike of fear I’m feeling isn’t coming from Red at all—but from Constantine.

My headspace had been so muddled that for a second I couldn’t tell. Now it’s unmistakable—a jaggedness that is distinctly his, followed by a tide of darkness. At first I think that maybe this is coming from a nightmare, but then the emotions crest and dip in an uneven pattern, not like the even waves that come with his sleep.

Curiosity momentarily cuts through my anguish. I look up from the sink and back toward my bedchamber, to the wall where Constantine rests on the other side. The moonlight spilling against the floor stretches all the way across the room.

He’s not in his bed. He’s not anywhere in the room. And when I sense the emotions cresting over him, I realize that they’re coming from somewhere else.

After the assassination attempt earlier in the evening, some ominous premonition stirs in me. Did they catch someone else who was involved in the plot? Do the guards standing outside his door know that the Premier has left his chamber? Are Raina and Mayor Elland doing something else I don’t know about?

I find myself walking back into my bedroom and toward the door. I step out quietly into the hall.

Two guards posted in front of his bedroom stand straighter at the sight of me, blinking nervously. I give them a silent nod, then turn away and head down the hall, following the tug of our link.

Just because we are bonded doesn’t mean I always know exactly where he is. But unlike earlier—when he shielded all his emotions from me—now he is holding nothing back. His emotions are so strong, I find myself crossing the palace hall in confidence, following him as if he were a beacon. Light and darkness stripe past me as I make my way to the other end of the second floor, then down the flight of stairs. Guards posted around the palace note me as I pass them in silence, but they don’t dare make a move to question where I’m going.