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With a gasp, my consciousness landed on his moonstone ground, a full moon dripping beams of light onto the colossal gate that Coen leaned against now, head tipped back like he’d just sprinted across the entire island to get here.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, eyes closed. “I found some interesting books, though—more promising than anything we’ve found yet. I left the translated ones in the storage building for you to—”

His eyes flashed opened, landed on me, and instantly shifted from a dazed sort of exhaustion into predatory focus.

“What happened to you, Rayna?”

He lifted himself off his gate and prowled forward until he was towering over me, his pupils dragging from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

I crossed my arms, noting the way his own form wobbled unsteadily, as if he’d had no better day than me. “I could ask you the same question.”

“You first.” He yanked his eyes back up to mine. “You first, always.”

My cheeks warmed, but I huffed out a sigh, already feeling embarrassed over my level of concern for him and how much it had affected me. Better to start with the fiasco earlier than immediately dive into all those desires my subconscious had reeled back in to keep safe. “I almost got eaten by a giant centipede today, but I’m okay. Your turn.”

Coen jerked his head back. “Wait, what?”

“It’s no big deal.” I waved a hand in the air, but he caught me by the wrist before lacing his fingers through mine.

“Not so fast.” The gentleness in his voice didn’t yield to the authority of his tone. “Tell me what happened.”

I glanced off to the side, drinking in the sight of Coen’s moon. How it painted us in a shimmering glow that I wanted to bathe in forever.

“Somebody on campus must have been experimenting with their magic and lost control,” I relented finally. “I should’ve been able to handle it after everything we faced in Hallow’s Perch, but I just… froze up. I forgot about my powers.” That feeling of helplessness, of powerlessness, inched up my spine again. “And I couldn’t reach for them.”

His gaze never straying from my face, Coen tucked a stray curl back behind my ears. “Couldn’t reach for what?”

“My knives,” I whispered. “I haven’t touched them since…”

His eyes widened, catching on before I had to voice it out loud.

“That’s understandable. But I know what you’re thinking, Rayna.” His voice dropped as low as mine.” I’ve known what you’ve been thinking this whole time, and it’s not true.” A pause caught in his throat. “You didn’t kill him.”

Once again, Garvis’s name loitered in the air. I bit the inside of my cheek. “They were my knives, Coen. And he was in that alleyway to save me.”

“And whose fault was that?” Coen didn’t take a step back, but he leaned away before jamming his free thumb into his own chest. “Mine. I should’ve noticed you disappearing from that village square, but I didn’t.”

“Because you were fighting monsters!”

“Because I am a monster,” he said firmly—as if he actually believed that. “I shouldn’t have dragged you and the others into that hellhole.”

“What?” I blinked at him. “You didn’t drag us! You gave us all a choice, remember?” I studied the hard lines splaying across his forehead that even this mental space couldn’t smooth over. “Coen… what’s wrong?”

For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t tell me. We’d spent so long trying to protect each other by keeping secrets that this type of stark honesty still felt new and uncertain. And I’d already laid out my terms: he didn’t have to tell me anything that didn’t pertain to me. I wouldn’t demand every private thought or piece of information if those secrets didn’t involve me.

Then his grip tightened in mine and he lowered his head.

“I killed someone today,” he whispered, his shoulders slumping. “I tried to resist, but I wasn’t strong enough.”

My jaw fought to pop open, but I bit my tongue. He didn’t need someone to gape at him right now. He needed someone to understand.

“She made you, didn’t she?” My gums ached, as if they wanted to grow fangs just to rip into my aunt’s throat for this. “The queen of Sorronia made you.”

Coen didn’t have to nod. I could see the haunted gleam in his eyes. Not just over the fact that he’d killed someone innocent, but over the realization that it could have been someone he loved. His friends. His family. Me.

“Listen.” I cupped Coen’s cheek with my free hand, forcing him to look back into my eyes. “We’re in this game as players, not pawns, remember?” I swallowed hard. “The queen doesn’t know I exist, and Dyonisia doesn’t know you’re alive. We might not have an army at our side yet, but we have our friends.” I thought of Emelle and Lander, Terrin and Dazmine, Rodhi and the twins, and a lump formed in my throat. “And we are going to win. Got it?”

The smoky quartz of Coen’s eyes shimmered with an emotion I couldn’t quite place, even in here, as he tugged me closer.