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The scar encircled my wrist, and my blood went cold. But I forced myself to answer. “I was in chains. When I was healed, there were other, more important wounds to treat. So my wrists scarred.”
Pity tightened Jyris’s expression. “I’m sorry to hear that. It appears as if your memories are just fine, but you should let me know if you notice anything unusual. I’m going to give you a tonic, and then I want you to rest. You had bleeding between your skull and the outer layer of your brain. You’re very, very lucky you survived.”
I stared at him. I’d known I was hurt, of course. But I hadn’t realized just how close I had come to not waking up. It seemed almost offensive, that I could have died without even knowing death was coming for me.
But the worst part was…once again, I’d been a victim. I’d had no way to protect myself and, instead, had been entirely reliant on Demos and Lorian hauling me around like a corpse. I was so tired of that being my story. And it was time to do something about it.
Demos turned and stalked away. Since he was often in a terrible mood around me, I wasn’t exactly surprised.
“I need to be on my feet in the morning,” I said. “Can you make that happen?”
Jyris’s mouth thinned. “Against my own instincts, yes. But only if you agree to certain stipulations.”
It was that, or Demos and Lorian would find some way to leave me here. And it was my turn to help Prisca.
“I’ll agree.”
“Fine.”
* * *
The instant my foot crossed the threshold of Valdoria’s cottage, Demos met me, shoving me against the wall with a snarl.
“What. Did. You. Do?”
I twisted, shoving him away. The fact that I hadn’t felt his presence suggested I desperately needed sleep.
Valdoria stepped into the room and swept her gaze over me, pausing at the blood coating my tunic, dry and sticky on my skin. “Regner moved a regiment into place a few hours from here. Lorian went to ask them some questions,” she said.
Demos’s eyes narrowed. “You think Regner’s not going to respond to that? He’ll respond with a strike against the hybrids or any fae stupid enough to be in his vicinity.”
“I don’t care.” The rest of the world could fucking burn.
Demos shoved me. Sparks began to rise off my skin, and I tamped down my power. If I killed Prisca’s brother, I would lose her for good.
“You don’t care? Your actions are risking innocent lives. You think Prisca would want this?”
Just her name was enough to make me want to lash out like a wounded animal.
It was my turn to shove him. And he flew against the wall, hitting it with a thud.
“Stop this,” Valdoria snapped.
I kept my gaze on Demos. “Prisca isn’t here. Because you were too busy worrying about the fucking hourglass to strategize, and I was too slow to get to her.”
The color drained from Demos’s face. “She wanted me to take that hourglass.”
“And now we have it, and Prisca is probably wishing she were dead.”
Demos let out a humorless laugh. “Yes. Wishing she were dead. Likely craving it with everything in her. But instead, she’ll be forced to betray the people she loves, because you couldn’t stand the thought of her being able to choose her end when the time came.”
“Prisca will never end her life,” I snarled.
Demos bared his teeth, stepping close enough that I could see him wrestling with the urge to reach for his sword. “Do you think I want to lose her? You may not know this, Your Highness, but some things are worse than death.”
The door flew open. Asinia stood, swaying on her feet. At least she was up and moving, although she was clearly nowhere near fully recovered.
Demos leaped toward her, but she held up a hand.
