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“He went under with his head in my lap.” My throat closes, but I force the words out. “I stayed with him until he went cold.”

Eilish’s fingers squeeze my wrist. “I’m so sorry, Sera. I know how much you loved him.”

“Rafe tried to move me. Dane tried. I told them if anyone touched me, I’d shoot them in the dick.”

She hands me a tissue so I can wipe my nose.

“After, my brothers built the pyre.” I rub my thumb across a dark smudge on my knuckles. “I lit it.”

Eilish sets her glass down and puts her arms around me. “Sera.”

“I’m fine.” I choke out.

“I’ve seen you angry,” she says softly. “And feisty. I’ve seen you take no shit from men⁠—”

“Sounds like me.”

“But I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“My da bought him for me,” I whisper. “We worked on him together. Got a saddle on his back and a bit in his mouth.”

“I know.”

“He taught me how to sit on him, how to read him, how to wait instead of force.” My breath catches. “When my da died, Fury was there. Every day. Every time I needed to talk without judgment, he was there.”

Eilish reaches for the vodka bottle on the bedside table and pours another measure into my glass.

I knock it back in one swallow without a mixer.

It burns my throat and lands in my empty stomach like a lit match.

“I can’t fix grief with vodka, but I can get you blind drunk.”

A broken laugh slips out of me. She takes the glass from my hand and sets it aside before lying down on the bed.

After a second, I lie beside her, both of us staring at the ceiling like teenagers hiding from the world.

Her hand finds mine between us, and she links our fingers. “Stay here tonight.”

“Okay.”

I breathe out a long sigh and blink up at the ceiling, shocked at how everything in my life has changed.

A knock comes at the door, and she sits up as Mara pokes her face in. “You’re needed downstairs.”

Eilish glances at me. “I won’t be long. I’ll bring up more vodka and a bag of popcorn.”

“Take your time.”

She leans down and kisses my forehead, careful of the cut near my brow, then leaves with Mara.

At first, I stay on the bed because I promised. Because my limbs are heavy, and my head has gone light from vodka and crying.

I listen to the stillness, then hear laughter from downstairs and the distant opening and closing of doors.

Time stretches.

The candle burns lower.