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“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she replied after a moment, her words careful and soft.

He curved a hand over the back of her head, his fingers sliding into her hair, careful not to tug on a knot. “Tell me, sweetheart.”

“I will if you will,” she replied in a raspy voice, rough with emotion. “But you—you might not like me much after you find out.”

“Nothing in this world could stop me loving you, Maia Delakore,” he said fiercely, scanning the still lake before them, listening to the quiet hush of the trees. Still alone, still safe.

Maia made a small, choked sound, and then she was shaking violently, her chest jumping against his, heartbroken sobs clawing from her lips.

“Nothing could turn my opinion against you,” he continued, the words low and just for her, the lake hushed and reverent around them. “You are brave, and kind, and deserving of love, no matter what the saints have done to you.”

The last words were almost abrasive against his tongue, forcing him to accept they were true about him, too. But Kraevawas too recent, too raw. He could still smell the dead even with Maia’s scent in his lungs, could still see the horrible generals of Samlyn’s army rising from below the deck of the ship. Part of him was back there, in the moment when the true horror of what he’d done dawned on him.

“I killed everyone in Eosantha,” Maia whispered against his chest, her whole body tensed. Braced, he realised, for his reaction. She probably wasn’t expecting the slump of his shoulders or the sudden rush of air that hit his lungs.

“Just hours ago I was in Kraeva with the Provider,” he admitted quietly, the roughness in his chest making his voice gravelly. “There are no survivors. Because of me.”

Maia drew a sudden breath and stared up at him, reaching up to curve the warmth of her palm over his stubbled jaw. “Saints, Az, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry for you,” he croaked, kissing the bridge of her nose. “We’ll survive this, Maia. I don’t know how, but I swear to you, we will survive this. We’ll be safe again. And when we get back to the compound, we’ll never leave.”

A wry smile added some life to her face, though her eyes remained dull and haunted. “You could never sit back while injustice happens. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

He almost staggered under those words, his eyes fluttering shut as he absorbed their warmth and strength. Maia loved him. He was loved. Even after Kraeva, even after mass slaughtering innocents.

“What happened in Kraeva?” she whispered, her thumb stroking the sharp edge of his cheekbone.

Azrail swallowed and told her every last detail. And when he was done, she told him everything that had happened since they were separated. When they both fell silent, he held her as tightly as he dared, not wanting to hurt her even more. Her iron poisoning was healed, butfuck,what a cost.

“It doesn’t surprise me,” he murmured against her hair. “That he’d kill people to heal you. That he’d sully his own soul to protect yours. That’s the sort of person Bryon is.”

“He’s my mate, Az,” she confessed in a whisper, a weight leaving her shoulders when the words hung between them.

“I know,” he murmured. He hadn’t noticed the bond between them forming but looking back now he saw the signs he’d missed. And he was glad Maia wasn’t alone.

“Does it… change anything? Between us?”

“No,” he replied honestly. “If we weren’t in the middle of a war of saints, maybe it would. Maybe jealousy would get between us. But as far as issues go, Bryon being your mate doesn’t even rank among them. He’s a good man, and he protects those he considers friends. I’ve known him years, and sure he’s a grumpy bastard—” Maia laughed. “But he cares. Deeply. More than he’d ever let on. He’s a good fit for you. And I’ll never say no to another person keeping you safe.”

Her hand fell to his neck, stroking his pulse. “You’re a better person than me. I’m not sure, even with saints and a war unfolding, I’d be so accepting of another woman being in your life.”

Az kissed her temple. “That’s never something you have to worry about.”

“Another man, however… especially if he were already part of our family, and I loved him more than life itself… if we happened tobothlove him…”

A barb dug its way into the flesh of Azrail’s throat and refused to be soothed by Maia’s stroking fingers. “You don’t have to worry about that, either.”

Maia settled her head over his heart and murmured, “Alright,” and he could breathe again. “You didn’t tell me if you’re in a room alone, or who’s with you.”

Az dragged her scent into his lungs, filled all his senses with it, though the barb dug deeper. “Jaro.”

“And is he… okay?”

No. Fuck, he really wasn’t, but Maia was struggling, fighting for her life and sanity every day and Azrail wasn’t about to add to her worries. So he kissed the top of her head and said, “As okay as any of us are.”

“Is he eating?” she murmured, dropping her hand to worry the ragged hem of his shirt.

“No,” Azrail admitted, “and I don’t know how to convince him to. When we get out of here—”