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Silence stretched.

Her throat protested the first time she tried to speak. It took a few attempts before her voice rasped out, hoarse but steady.

“What’d I miss?”

Dying wasn’t easy. But what came after—that was worse.

As if surviving the ordeal wasn’t bad enough, the next morning left Taly feeling like she’d been run over by an airtram, chewed up by a pack of grendel, and then left out for the harpies to pick over.

Her aether was gone. Her veins hurt, like they’d been sucked dry. She’d lost most of it in the collision with her body, like a comet burning up upon re-entry.

Needless to say, she woke up feeling downright irritable. The faeflower tonic was extra slimy that morning, which didn’t help.

Neither did the royal pain in her ass she’d woken up next to, who, if he didn’t stop throwing around orders, was going to find out just how creative she could get with a dagger.

“For the last time,no,” Taly snarled, shoving her feet into a pair of boots.

Outside the closet, Skye growled, “Taly, if you would just—”

“No, no,no.” She yanked her favorite tunic off the hanger, deep blue silk with gold embroidery along the collar. “I’m not going to stop scrying!”

Skye was frowning when she exited the closet—big shock there. Sitting on the edge of the bed, bristling, every single one of those stupid, overbearing Fey instincts were on high alert.

Taly ignored him, checking her reflection in a long mirror. She looked pale. Weariness dulled her eyes, with dark circles underneath. Even the color seemed faded, as if the drain on her aether had stolen some of that Highborn light.

Dying was hard on the body—even for an immortal. She could feel Skye making the same assessment behind her.

But that wasn’t what made her frown.

The room was adisaster.

It was like she was seeing it for the first time.

Clothing—hers and his—lay scattered after being hastily discarded. Pillows and blankets were still piled by the fire, remnants of nights spent talking, laughing, and making love beside it. The roughly three-square inches of satin and lace she’d surprised him with, what, two days ago? … was still draped haphazardly over a lamp. And she was certain the bottle ofmassage oil on the nightstand, slightly ajar, had left a stain on the wood.

She couldn’t complain too much, considering she’d had a hand in making the mess. She’d been so wrapped up in Skye, that magic tongue, and even more magical cock that her usual tidying had fallen by the wayside.

She made a mental note to add to her to-do list:get your shit together.

Her lungs were on fire. Taking a seat at her vanity, Taly placed a hand to her chest and tried not to make too big a show of trying to catch her breath. She hadn’t needed the airbalm in weeks. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said, catching Skye’s eyes in the mirror.

Somehow, his face turned even more disapproving. “You should be in bed right now.” She scoffed. “I’m serious. You were dead on the floor less than eight hours ago. Where are you even getting dressed to go?”

Taly ripped a brush through her hair. “I have a shift at the healing park.”

“No, you don’t. Aiden canceled it.”

Well, Aiden couldn’t stop her from showing up anyway. The same way Skye couldn’t stop her from scrying just because he’d unilaterally decided it was too dangerous.

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Taly, youdied.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“And you still haven’t said exactly what happened to you.”

“Because you interrupted me. If you recall, I started this conversation with ‘aboutlast night—,’ then you immediately told—not asked—toldme that I was going to stop scrying. And that’s how we ended up here.”