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I drop my fingers and he laughs hollowly, icy puffs against my chin. In a snap of his fingers, he hurtles air toward the default cure and pulls the vial off the shelf towards us.

“This is my future you’re playing with,” I croak, and the vial pauses mid-air beside us.

“Doing this... to protect...”

“I want to protect him too.”

Quin shuts his eyes, frosted lashes meeting icy skin.

“If he is hurt in the palace,” I whisper, “how many would seriously treat his wounds?Iwill do anything to make sure he lives.”

His cold thighs numb my own. If I don’t work fast, Iwillneed to use the default cure.

I need to get warmth to his core. Without magic. Fast.

I stare at him, and—

I press my fingers against two more acupoints as he instinctively palms his chest, higher up. “This will confine your energy and keep your vital organs warm.”

His dark eyes hit mine like he wants to bellow his outrage. Only the ice weaving patterns over his skin is stopping him. I call the spell to my fingertips—

It stutters, and snaps.

My meridians are blocked.

He’s momentarily smug as he takes the vial. I snatch for it, but Quin expends the last of his energy to keep it from me.

“Please,” I beg him.

His words are mostly clouds between us. “Ending things... with Nicostratus... is best.”

“I care about him.”

“If you care... stop.”

“Is that how you deal with your problems? By running away? Hiding?”

He uncorks the vial.

“Don’t force this.”

He lifts it to his quivering lips.

“He has my first kiss!”

Something sad lurks in Quin’s eye, like a part of him regrets doing this. He looks at me over the vial. “Doesn’t mean... he’ll have your last.”

“Stop.”

He hesitates.

“Nicostratus is only one reason I need to get into the palace. He’s not even... not even the main reason.”

Icy patterns fall down his cheeks as his trapped magic warms him up.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “They need to see there is hope. One day more par-linea will be able to do this.”

Quin’s fingers tighten around the vial.