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“Yes,” Riven answered. “A rare gift, even among the Fae.”

Riven tapped my cheek lightly, coaxing my eyes back open. I struggled to peer at him through my lashes. The pull was stronger now. I really was dying. All I needed to do was let the darkness claim me.

“She was also a healer,” Riven cut in, shaking his shoulder underneath my head. “Not just elixirs and potions, though she was a master alchemist too. She had the healing gift. The ability to weave together torn flesh or cure the sick on the brink of death.”

Too bad she isn’t here, I thought.

“Your father?” I breathed, trying to stay conscious. My lungs burned, sending excruciating waves of pain through my body with every breath. The metallic tang of my blood coated my tongue. I didn’t have much time.

“I don’t have a father,” Riven said, chewing his lip as he stared down at me. “Hold on, Keera. We’re almost there.” Panic coated his words. His pulse hammered in his neck. I could smell the adrenaline coursing through his blood. Riven was scared. More terrified than I’d ever seen him, but he didn’t need to be.

Death did not scare me.

Death is the only certainty in this life. Those were Riven’s words. The Shadow’s. The Fae who clung to me, willing me to live.

But I was ready for that certainty. I closed my eyes and did not open them again.

Voices. I heard voices.

“What happened?” someone shouted. A gruff voice. Not its usual confident candor. It was Nikolai.

“The detonators malfunctioned, and Keera decided to ignite them herself.” Riven’s hard voice. It sounded close. I could feel his breath on my cheek. He was carrying me in his arms.

I opened my eyes a sliver. I was in too much pain to widen them anymore. We were in a room. No, a cave. The ceiling and walls were made of dark stone, but there was light. Lots of light. I spotted a large faelight in the corner of the room.

“Bring her in there,” a hoarse female voice commanded. Through the crack in my lashes, I saw a small, gray-haired woman walking in front of Riven. “Put her on the table,” the same voice said, though her words were muffled like she was far away.

I peered through my lashes again. She was close. Someone else spoke, but their words were muted, like I had been plunged underwater and could only hear the cadence of their speech.

Riven put me down with overwhelming gentleness. The hardness on my back hurt. I missed the weightlessness of being cradled in his arms. I tried to speak but an unnatural sound escaped my throat. I think I was screaming.

“How did she expect to survive the blast?” the hoarse female voice asked. “There’s so much blood. It’s a miracle she made it here still breathing.” My arms bent uncontrollably as I moaned. I felt hot. Like I was on fire from the inside out.

“I don’t think she was planning on surviving.” Riven’s voice cracked. I felt someone grab my hand and squeeze my fingers.

“A hero complex and a magnetism for death. It’s a wonder she hasn’t died already.” It was that same hoarse voice I didn’t recognize. I heard the sound of steel rubbing together. “Her clothes are useless to her now. Quicker if we cut her out of them.”

Someone grabbed my arm, tugging at the sleeve caked in blood. They lifted it above my wrist, and I felt a cool piece of metal touch my skin. They were going to cut the sleeve.

They were going to expose my scars.

My eyes snapped open, and I shook my arm away. I panted as I searched for whoever was cutting my tunic. A woman with curly gray hair peered down at me with yellow eyes.

“What is it, child?” she asked, holding a pair of shears in her hand.

“Don’t—” I started, but my voice caught in my throat. “Don’t let him see me,” I told her, looking up at Riven. I grabbed her hand holding the shears, my fingers clasping around the blades.

“Don’t let him... anyone. Just you,” I whispered. My head spun, and my breaths grew faint. I leaned back on the hard table. Her yellow eyes studied my face, snapping the shears open and shut. She gave me a firm nod and rested the shears beside me.

“Out!” she shouted at Riven.

“But what about—”

“I said out!” Muffled footsteps echoed against the stone walls and faded away.

Yellow eyes appeared above me once again. I blinked, thinking I was in a dream. “I won’t let anyone see,” she said. The first slice along my tunic felt like the pierce of a blade. The second was a hard punch to the jaw. I wrestled against her, not wanting her to see the truth written on my skin.

“Hush now,” she whispered. I felt a prick on my bared arm and my eyes closed once again.