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Summoning every bit of control I could, I forced my hand up. My fingers skated along his chest and landed on his cheek. Sticky.

Blood.

It was drying, but in the dim light, I could just make out a nasty slice above his eyebrow. Deep. He’d probably lost so much blood already. It would scar.

Wait—what had he said? I’ll come back for it.

No. No, he couldn’t leave me alone.

Cypherion’s arms tightened around me, and in my weak state, shrouded by that comfort, my tongue loosened. “Don’t leave me behind,” I whispered.

Not as so many people had before. Not as Titus was trying to.

I couldn’t see his face when he whispered, “Never.”

Harlen tore back into the room, a glass of water in hand. Cypherion set me on the cushions, retrieving my cloak and wrapping me, then helped me drink some of the water. Each swallow was brutal, but the soft velvet he’d gifted me was an unrivaled warmth.

When he was certain I wasn’t going to choke, he said to Harlen without looking away from me, “Thank you. My winnings. Find them.”

“No need,” that feminine voice returned. The beads clinked as I let my eyes slip shut again. “I can perform the session.”

So, it was her. I didn’t know why Harlen brought me to the private chambers of the ring’s prized Starsearcher, the one we’d gambled to win a reading from, but I didn’t have the energy to question it now.

“She should not stay,” the woman said.

“She stays,” Cypherion commanded before I could muster up the energy. He cradled me in his lap again.

Thank Valyrie.

Settling into Cypherion’s arms, I listened as Harlen left. As the Starsearcher settled her herbs and incense, as a match hissed with flame and the light shifted outside of my lids. As silence cascaded over the room with a warm rush, and I fought off the mounting pressure in my chest.

Each time burning starfire tried to steal my mind, with each shiver that racked my body, Cypherion held on. He dragged a gentle hand down my arm and watched me, counting beneath his breath. At one point, he tightened his grip, then reluctantly shifted me to the cushions beside him, like he wanted me to lay flat, just in case.

Cypherion’s eyes and hands remained on me, searing and soothing all at once. The incense struck at the walls I’d formed around my mind, and indeterminable images flashed behind my eyelids.

I clung to Cypherion’s hand. Fight it, he’d asked of me.

Fight it, like I’d told myself I’d fight for him. This was another test. Hold on to him as I wanted to cling to the future we had not had a chance to explore.

Shapeless things flashed in my mind, all cloaked in shadows. Indiscernible and ghostly. Bursts of light pushed through.

Sweat beaded on my brow.

“Hurry up,” Cypherion mumbled beneath his breath.

But it was fruitless. We couldn’t rush the Fates.

Finally, a huge pair of feathered wings flared behind my eyes, iridescent before a setting sun. I cried out as the reading tugged and tugged at me.

Just in time for the searcher to break from her trance.

And she said words that sank to the core of myself, cold and terrified. “The ninth floor beneath the archives holds what you seek.”

Panic gripped my chest, tearing away what little resolve I held against the reading. And it took me.

Chapter Ten

Cypherion