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WREN

I blinked at Kingston a few times. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You’ll need to stay here,” he replied matter-of-factly as if his words weren’t completely unhinged. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“For you, maybe,” Ender snarled. “All you care about is fucking her and picking up the pieces of whatever mess she’s got herself caught up in.”

I bristled at that, but Puck gave him a hard shove before I could say a word. “Do you want me to break your nose this time? Twice in forty-eight hours might be a new record.”

“You can’t tell me you actually think this is a good idea,” Ender clipped. “We have a no-females rule in the compound for a reason.”

I scoffed. “What is this? Second grade and a no-girls-allowed club?”

Ender skewered me with a look that should’ve had me stumbling back a few steps, but I wasn’t about to back down to this idiot. It didn’t matter how good of a fighter he was.

“It’s a no-traitors-allowed club,” he snapped. “And you haven’t proven yourself not to be one.”

“These are extenuating circumstances, End,” Kingston said, his voice calm. “She fought with us and saved Puck’s life. She’s earned our loyalty.”

“If Puck was stupid enough to leave his back wide open, then he would have deserved whatever he got,” Ender shot back.

The entire room went silent for a beat and then erupted. It wasn’t Brix who decked Ender this time; it was Puck. And his fist connected with Ender’s jaw, the force of it enough to send Ender’s head snapping back. The guys yelled as they struggled to pull them apart.

Fiery claws raked at my emotional shields. They were already drained from the past forty-eight hours—heightened emotion tended to do that. Spots danced across my vision as I staggered back a step. It felt like tiny ice picks were jamming into my brain.

“What’s wrong with her?” Locke’s voice sounded far away.

Puck cursed. “She gets migraines.” I heard shuffling as he ordered everyone out. “I’ll get the tincture.”

“Ice pack, too,” Locke called, but he was already moving around the room, drawing the curtains closed and flicking off the lights.

“Leave one on,” I croaked.

“You don’t want total darkness?” Locke asked softly.

“No. Need one on. Just a little one.” I couldn’t have complete dark. It reminded me of the pit too much. And I couldn’t go back there.

“Okay. I’ve got this one on right here.” Locke chose a small lamp on the other side of the room. There was enough of a glow to know I wasn’t back there , but not so much that it hurt my eyes.

“Thank you,” I rasped.

“Come on,” Locke said. “Let’s get you back to bed.” He pulled the covers back, moving the tray of food to the other side of the mattress.

I slid between the sheets, no fight left in me. The pain was too bad. Locke gently pulled the comforter back into place as I heard the door open.

“Here,” Puck said, his voice low.

A second later, an ice pack wrapped in a soft cloth was being laid across my head.

“Drink this,” Locke ordered gently, placing a straw between my lips.

I sucked down the concoction, the same one Puck had given me the first day we met. My eyes fluttered open. “You’re the one who gets migraines.”

Locke nodded. “When I stare at my monitor for too long.”

“You mean when you don’t break to eat or sleep,” Puck chided.

My lips twitched. It was sweet how Puck clearly cared for Locke and wanted to caretake him. I sank deeper into the pillows. “That’s nice,” I mumbled, the haze of the migraine starting to pull me under.

“What is?” Puck asked.

“That you have each other.” I let out a breath as my words started to slur. “I miss having people. A pack. I miss when someone used to care.”

And then sleep swallowed me.