He was broken. And I didn’t know how to put him back together.
“I know you’re angry with me,” he said quickly. “But it’ll get better. Once we leave. You’ll see. Just us, like it was always meant to be.”
“Finn, I can’t leave Phoenix. Or Leo. Or Slade…” My chest ached. “I love them—”
“NO!” His voice cracked. “They got in your head! You don’t love them! You love me. You… you said you did.”
Then he hit me.
My head snapped sideways. Heat burst in my cheek. For a heartbeat, all I could do was stand there. Shock, not pain.
He’d hit me.
I cried out, clutching my jaw.
Finn’s eyes widened. Then he lunged, wrapping me in a suffocating hug. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to— They changed you. The Tower… They brainwashed you. But I’ll get you back…”
I tried to push him off, but he clung tighter—clutching me like a drowning man grips driftwood. He muttered nonsense as he dragged me deeper into the smoke and ruin, through the twisted alleys. My arms burned. My lungs wheezed.
Then—footsteps.
A figure staggered through the haze, one hand pressed to his ribs.
Jasper.
He looked like hell. Bloody, bruised, barely upright.
“Finn?” he rasped. “What are you doing here?”
Finn froze, his grip tightening again. “Stay out of this, Jasper.”
Jasper blinked at us, dazed. “Elira?” His eyes flicked to me, unreadable. “You’re hurt.”
“I said back off!” Finn growled. “Leave us alone!”
Jasper raised one hand in peace. “Alright, easy. Just trying to get my bearings.”
He took a slow step forward—limping slightly, weaving like he was hurt.
I didn’t trust it.
Neither did Finn.
Then Jasper’s hand slipped inside his coat.
“Oh, before I forget…” He pulled something out.
A dagger.
My dagger.
The one bearing the mark of King Virell.
Jasper turned it in his hand, letting the firelight catch the crest.
“I took this, remember,” he said casually. “When you first came to the Pit.”
My stomach dropped.
