Page 62

Scrape. Click.

One by one, her little soldier dragged the coins to her side.

Scrape. Click.

“I like your watch,” she mused.

Kato scowled but yanked it off his wrist, tossing it over.

“Throw in your cufflinks, and we’ll call it square.”

He grumbled and surrendered those too. “Joke’s on you. They’re not mine. They’re Skye’s.”

Scrape. Click.

“I don’t care who pays your tab, Kato, only that it gets settled.”

Scrape… click.

“Is that really necessary?”

“I think so.” Chin resting on her hands, Aimee’s sly smile widened.

Talya’s door opened then, saving him from further humiliation as Aiden finally appeared.

Exhaustion clung to her brother like a second skin, his sleeves haphazardly rolled up and splattered with dried blood. The fatigue carved into his face told a story of long hours and grim work.

The rest of the room stirred, rising—except for Aimee, who remained seated.

“Is she missing any fingers?” The question was out before she could stop it.

Aiden frowned at her, and Aimee pressed her lips together.

He turned to the others. “Taly’s going to be fine.”

Sarina exhaled deeply, breaking into a relieved smile as Ivain swept her into his arms. Skye just stood there, unblinking, like the words hadn’t quite sunk in.

“Can we see her?” he asked.

Aiden shook his head. “She’s in a healing sleep to help with the pain. I’d like to let her stabilize before bringing her back around.”

“What’s wrong with her then?” Aimee asked, tapping a nail against the tabletop. The sooner they got through this, the sooner she could leave.

Aiden rummaged through his duffel. Without looking up, he asked, “Do you remember how many times we had to stop everything to search for Cori’s airbalm? Even after we strung it around her neck, she was always losing it.”

Aimee scowled. “I still say she did it on purpose.”

Cori had been vocal about her hatred of the device.

Ivain cut in. “What does this have to do with anything?”

Aiden held up a finger. “When Aimee and I were kids, our baby cousin—who we now know is Taly—had a condition. Earthlung. It’s common in children conceived in low-aether environments like the mortal realm.”

Aimee went very still.

“It’s easy to treat,” Aiden continued. “But Aunt Breena never trusted the healers in Lycia. She was convinced they were all working for High Lord Auberin and didn’t want him to know about the baby until they were safely back in her husband’s court.”

And for good reason. Children born to powerful families rarely lived long without protection. What better way to cripple a rival family than to snuff out its future early?