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"You had to⁠—"

I wanted to shake her. Wanted to shout until she understood exactly what she had done. Instead, my hands moved over her shoulders. Her throat. Her face. Searching for blood. For a wound. For any sign that I had been too slow.

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Do not answer until you are certain."

"I'm certain."

"Turn around."

"What?"

"Turn around."

"Azaren, I'm fine."

"I said turn around."

She did, more from surprise than obedience. I checked her back. Her arms. The side of her neck. Nothing. Whole.

Alive.

My lungs finally dragged in air. I spun her back toward me. "I nearly killed you."

"But you didn't."

"That is not the point."

"It is a little bit the point."

"Poppy."

Her expression softened. That only made it worse.

"Don't kill it," she whispered.

I stared at her. "You threw yourself in front of an infernal blade, and that is what you have to say?"

"It showed me what happened."

"It invaded your mind."

"It showed me."

"I nearly cut you in half."

"But you didn't."

"Infuriating woman." My voice broke on the last word. I hated that. Hated the weakness of it. Hated the terror still clawing through my chest.

Poppy's eyes searched mine. "Azaren."

I released her abruptly. Or tried to. My hands refused. They tightened instead and even then I was aware of my claws and her delicate skin. How easy it would rip under them. The truth arrived without permission. Not gently. Not gradually. It tore through me with all the violence of a collapsing realm.

If that blade had struck her... if I had watched the life leave her eyes... there would have been nothing left in any world worth returning to. The realization stripped me bare.