"When you're recovered," Raith says suddenly, his voice low enough that only I can hear. "When you're back at full strength..." He pauses, his eyes meeting mine with a heat that sends electricity down my spine. "I want you in my bed again, but not for healing."

The bluntness of his words makes my breath catch, a flush spreading across my cheeks that has nothing to do with the void corruption still leaving my system.

"Is that a promise?" I ask, matching his boldness despite the hammering of my heart.

His answering smile is slow and absolutely delicious.

31

I'm running through marble halls toward a scream that freezes my blood and shatters something inside me. It's my sister's voice, warped into something no human throat should produce. A sound of pure terror and agony that rips my heart into shreds.

The hallway seems to stretch on endlessly. Guards lie crumpled against the walls, their armor dented, blood pooling beneath them. The scents of copper and smoke are so strong I start to gag as I keep racing toward that sound.

I should be bigger. Stronger. Faster. More prepared. Maybe then I could do something to stop all of this.

"Mother! Guards! Someone!" I call, but there's no answer. Just another scream from behind a heavy door at the end of the corridor.

As I reach it, tendrils of black smoke curl from beneath. Heat radiates through the wood, the metal handle glowing red. I reach for it anyway, my hand hovering inches away when the door explodes outward in a blast of fire and⁠—

I wake with a gasp, heart hammering against my ribs. For a moment, I'm disoriented, the smell of smoke and blood still so vivid I expect to find the room ablaze and covered in gore. Instead, I'm greeted by cool morning light filtering through a window in the fire affinity tower.

Raith's quarters. I’m still here. Still recovering three days after the siphon attack that nearly killed us both.

I've hardly spent a full day conscious in his room, but it already feels safer than my own. Realizing where I am is a relief, like warm, comfortable sheets wrapping around me in a protective cocoon. I want to curl deeper into his bed and drift back to sleep.

"Another vision?" Typhon asks, his diminished form curled at the foot of the bed. He's still only slightly larger than a housecat, his normally vibrant blue scales dulled to a muted slate.

"I don't know what they are," I admit, pushing damp hair from my forehead. "They feel like memories, but not mine." Deep down, some part of me does know now. Some part of me suspects, but the horror of those dreams makes me not want to believe.

Despite the call of sleep, I sit up in bed and look around the room for Raith. But he's not here.