Page 150 of The Reckoning of Starlight

“I was inside your mind!” Jassyn’s chest heaved as each breath dragged across his bruised windpipe. “I’ve been inside your mind more times than either of us should be comfortable with. Each time, I find the same conviction—you’d rather be the first to fall than survive long enough to watch it happen to someone else. So you make yourself the acceptable loss.”

Snow dusted Lykor’s shoulders, his breath clouding the space between them. “And you…” His voice came rough. “You plan until the world fits inside your hands. Every path. Every life. You tell yourself that if you anticipate enough, nothing can be taken from you again.” His eyes ignited. “You want to tell me that’s strategy? You’re just terrified of what happens when you lose control.”

Jassyn flinched, every vine in the chamber withering at once.

Only the faint crackle of frost loosening from Lykor’s armor disturbed the silence. His gaze dropped to the blood darkening Jassyn’s collar, then traveled over the bruises under his jaw.

“I came here alone because I couldn’t…” His mouth tightened around the unfinished thought. He shook his head.

His hand rose toward Jassyn’s face and faltered. Jassyn stayed where he was. Lykor’s thumb brushed the silver scar across his cheek.

“I would burn every corner of this world to keep you from places like this. I came here so you wouldn’t have to.”

Jassyn leaned into the touch until their foreheads met. Amid the broken crystal, one vine pushed through the wreckage and lifted a single green leaf.

“Next time,” Lykor breathed against him. “I won’t go alone.”

CHAPTER 41

LYKOR

Dawn bled bronze across the Aetherveil, and Lykor hadn’t slept.

He lay in the moss-lined alcove Jassyn had formed the night before, vines veiling the open air while the earth’s slow pulse warmed him from below. Jassyn lay an arm’s length from him, silent and turned away.

Aiko had migrated between them twice before curling against Jassyn’s chest, tail tucked under his chin. Her purr thrummed through the moss while the floating island swayed.

Lykor stared at the ceiling of braided leaves and roots. His hand inched toward Jassyn, but he drew back before touching him.

Jassyn’s breathing stayed even, each inhale measured, too controlled to be sleep. Lykor wanted to fill the silence between them, but didn’t know how.

Aesar hadn’t offered any help. After Lykor had portaled them back to the Aetherveil, Aesar had surged fully awake in their awareness. He’d seized their body, and healed Jassyn’s throat while Lykor silently lingered behind their eyes.

The Aesar who’d returned from Kal’s death was different. Quieter. More watchful. Kal’s absence had sunk into him, grief fused to bone.

Lykor sensed him in the library of their shared mind, pacing the mosaic floor. Back and forth, his boots clipping through Lykor’s skull.

Jassyn’s breathing never changed. Aiko continued to purr. Aesar crossed the atrium again. Lykor bit the inside of his cheek until iron spread across his tongue.

He turned inward and shoved the library doors open, stopping at the threshold.

“YOU’RE NOT GOING TO SAY IT?”

“Say what?” Aesar turned, calm enough to make Lykor want to crack the tiles beneath his boots.

“WHATEVER YOU’VE BEEN CIRCLING SINCE WE GOT BACK.”

Aesar drew to a halt. “He isn’t keeping silent because you went alone.”

Lykor braced one shoulder against the doorframe. “COULD’VE FOOLED ME.”

“You almost didn’t come back. That’s what he can’t get past.”

Saying nothing, Lykor withdrew. The library fell away, leaving the screen of vines a dark blur above him.

Aesar didn’t press. Once, he would’ve needled Lykor until he conceded.

With Jassyn silent beside him and Aesar quiet within, Lykor knew sleep never stood a chance.