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It was all wrong. Cats doing circus tricks, Kato handing out empathy.

“Uh… yeah,” Skye muttered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Then he left, ducking out of the tent, before the cat figured out how to do backflips.

A handful of miles north of the Aion Gate, the land gave way to sheer, jagged cliffs and dark, endless ocean.

The beach was a black scar against the white froth of water, littered with pieces of driftwood and the occasional shard of crystal washed up from one of the lost underwater Gates. In the distance, their jagged remains speared from the surface of the water, reaching toward uneven summits that scratched the night sky.

The first moon was a dark blot on the horizon, but with the aurora lights shining bright—and a bit of aether to enhance his night vision—Skye had no trouble spotting the black stones that marked the hidden cave entrance.

Magic made his skin prickle as he stepped through what only looked like solid rock. He was immediately engulfed by the low hum of machinery buzzing in the air. The walls were too smooth to be natural, and the air smelled musty. Firelamps flickered to life as he navigated the long, narrow passage,traveling back to where the crystal panes of the Aion Gate cut through from the ground above.

This far down, the strip of time crystal turned into a row of individual, faceted stones, each as large as a man’s head and easily removed. Salt crusted inside the sockets. He’d have to clean it out before he could repair the enchantments that had kept the crystals from going dark after the Schism.

He got to work. Scraping salt, cleaning the stone, patching the containment web. He settled into the rhythm—hands moving without thought—and time slid sideways. The machinery was neat. Predictable. Every gear and crystal in its place. He couldn’t remember the last time anything had felt that simple.

The second moon—a delicate sliver of light—sat high above the horizon when he finally emerged hours later, sweating and exhausted. The icy ocean air slammed into him, welcome for once.

He dropped to the sand and lay flat on his back, stretching beneath the moonlight. His body was wrung out, muscles aching. The work had kept him focused, but without it, the quiet came rushing back in.

His thoughts looped, circling that hollow place wheresheshould’ve been. Where the bond used to hum.

Even here, he couldn’t get away from her.

His hand drifted low, slow and thoughtless, stopping just above his waistband. The sea breeze cut through the sweat still clinging to his skin, but it didn’t cool him off. Not where it mattered.

The silence in the bond left him starving. It turned every nerve into a live wire. It made him itch beneath his skin, behind his teeth, in places no one could reach.

It made himwant. And there was never any end to it.

Every night, she was right there beside him—close enough to touch. But she hadn’t reached for him. Not once. Not even in her sleep.

And maybe… maybe he deserved the punishment.

At first, he was furious. She’d walked right back into the time loop—into a prison he’d nearlydiedgetting her out of. She’d faced the grimblealone.

But the longer he sat with it, the more that anger cooled.

Because it hadn’t started with her.

It started with him.

Cori had sicced the grimble on herself—and yeah, that was fucked. But she only did it becausehewas reckless. Because he made a call without thinking it through. He’d naively assumed that if there was a cost, he would be the one to pay it.

As if the world ever worked that way.

He palmed himself through his pants, slow and firm. Just enough pressure to take the edge off the ache.

Truth was, she was better off without him. Not because she was stronger—though she was. And not because she’d outgrown him—though that thought gutted him too. But because he kept making the wrong calls. Kept getting in her way. And he didn’t know how to stop.

He didn’t know who he was if he wasn’t protecting her.

His hand kept moving, slow and firm over the fabric. He was already half-hard, pulsing into his own palm.

What the hell.

He gave in.