The woman tips forward, landing on her hands and knees. She crawls towards me and presses her ear to my chest. All I can do is peer down, helpless to resist or protect myself. She remains there for a few long seconds before she sits back up, settling on her heels.

“It seems your heart is beating normally again. Lucky that.”

My heart? What does she mean again? Why are my thoughts so jumbled?

The woman hovers over me and smiles. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. That so-called mate of yours doesn’t deserve you, does she? But don’t you worry—Zerra will give you everything you need.”

Zerra? What? She places a hand in the center of my chest, and my skin crawls at the contact. I want to tell her to stop fucking touching me, but I can’t make the words come out.

I blink and feel my eyebrows pulling together.

She shuffles closer and leans down, pressing her lips against mine. I make a sound that’s somewhere between surprise and protest, trying to move away, but she holds me in place with her cold hands pressed against either side of my face. There’s nothing passionate about the kiss. Just the press of lips against mine.

“Hmm,” she says with a sound of satisfaction before she pulls away. “Yes, I can see why she was so fond of you. You’re very pretty. Just like he was.”

I try to shake my head. None of this is making any sense. Why is she referring to Lor in the past tense? What is happening?

Zerra pushes herself up again and then pads around to my other side. I hear the murmur of low voices and the drip of water. A cool, wet cloth lands on my forehead, covering my eyes. I try to shake it away, but I’m too weak.

A finger digs into my bottom lip and pulls it down, making me groan. A moment later, something cold drips on my tongue and slides down, soothing my raw throat. I swallow it because at least I can manage that.

“Next time you wake up, you’ll feel much better,” she says, and her hand—I think it’s hers—caresses my cheek before, once again, everything goes black.

CHAPTER 8

LOR

ALLUVION—THE CRYSTAL PALACE

Linden continues to glare at me throughout dinner, alternating between stony silence and the occasional verbal jab to remind me she doesn’t buy a word of my shit. I had expected this. I knew there would be people who wouldn’t forgive or forget my grandmother’s mistakes. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting.