“Nadir,” she says softly. “You’ve protected me over and over. You did save me. But it’s my turn to protect you. And this isn’t your fault. We’ve both been the victims of everyone else’s desires.” She takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “When this is over, we’re going to spend the rest of our lives making all of this up to each other, not because either of us did anything wrong, but because we deserve happiness.”

I nod, my throat too tight to speak as I marvel at this woman who’s chosen to love me. Who deserves so much better than the man that I am. But I’ll take it and hope she doesn’t realize it eventually.

Then she backs up and leaps. My stomach sinks to my feet, and I stop breathing. I swear everyone in the stands does the same.

She lands safely in a crouch, and I let out a whoosh of air. Then she prepares to leap to the next one, and I see her pause. But she runs anyway and jumps, sticking the landing.

“Come on!” she calls, and I follow after, clearing the first jump before I see what made her hesitate. The perspective from the previous platform is off, making this next landing further away than it looks.

I hate not having the use of my magic, and I hate that I’m so vulnerable right now. But the fierce look she gives me bolsters my confidence. She wants to protect me, and I . . . Gods, what a lucky asshole I am.

I run and leap to the next platform, and we continue in the same vein, drawing closer and closer to the center. There are a few near misses, backdropped by the crowd’s oohs and aahs and screams. It’s distracting, but I try to shut it out. I think of when Lor described her time on the gauntlet in the heart of Aphelion, and I watch her carefully for signs of distress. It can’t be easy to be reliving the same shit yet again. But she is resolute. Nearly unshakable.

“That one,” Lor says as she leaps for the next platform, where she waits a moment before I follow her. We make slow progress, the experience now bordering on tedious. I can tell even the crowd’s interest is waning as their chatter dies to a muted hush.

But I remain on alert. I’m sure this is intended to lull us into a sense of complacency.

Be vigilant, I say to Lor. Something is up.

Her jaw hardens as she stares around the cavern, her gaze skirting over the spectators. She rubs her face with a hand and then uses the back of it to wipe away a bead of sweat. We exchange a look filled with so many things we can’t say.