Jasper grinned. “In the flesh. Lacey, meet Elira. Elira, Lacey.”
I didn’t have time for introductions.
“Can we skip the pleasantries?” I snapped. “You said someone here could help Phoenix. Is that true?”
Lacey tilted her head, frowning.
“Phoenix?” she repeated. “Shade Phoenix?”
Disbelief dripped from her voice like venom. She turned sharply to Jasper, eyes flashing.
“You brought me a goddamnShade?”
“It’s not what you think,” Jasper said quickly. He stepped forward and tugged down Phoenix’s shirt. The scar beneath was raw and jagged—the brand, burned off by his own fire.
“Heburnedit,” Jasper said. “He made his choice.”
“He’s with me,” I cut in, voice shaking. “He’s mine. If you can help him, please—pleasedo.”
Lacey grimaced, taking a step back as if the brand’s absence offended her more than its presence would have.
“If he burned it,” she muttered, “then he’s being hunted. That mark was the only thing keeping the King’s dogs from tracking him outright. You’ll bring the whole damn army to our doorstep.”
“How is that different from any other day, Lacey?” Jasper said, tone tight. “You know how this ends. Elira trusts him.”
She stared at me again—longer this time. I met her gaze and didn’t blink.
Finally, Lacey exhaled through her nose.
“Get him on the cot. And keep that scar covered. If we’re doing this, we do it fast.”
I nodded, breath hitching. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t say I’m doing it forhim,” she said coldly, already crossing the room to dig through a crate of supplies. “I’m doing it because if we loseyou, girl, then we’ve already lost everything.”
Lacey pulled out a selection of supplies—bandages, tinctures, and a round tin of dark salve.
“My own creation,” she muttered, unscrewing the lid. “Heals almost anything.”
She dabbed it onto Phoenix’s wound.
At her touch, hehowled—a ragged, broken sound that tore out of him even in unconsciousness.
I lurched forward instinctively, but Jasper grabbed my arm.
“Hurts like a motherfucker,” Lacey said without looking up. “Still working out the kinks.”
But even as I watched, the wound began to seal—slowly, steadily. Skin knit together in unnatural motion, and though his body still trembled, colour had returned to his face.
Lacey threaded a needle and began to stitch, hands fast and practiced. Within minutes, the bleeding had stopped. Phoenix was still out cold, but he didn’t look like he was dying anymore.
“How many more of your Shade friends are we expecting?” Lacey asked, wiping her hands on a cloth.
“Two. Maybe three,” I said. “And they arenotto be harmed.”
She lifted her gaze and pinned Jasper with it.
“What the fuck, Jasper?”
