“Sounds like you’re scared.”
“Terrified.”
“Good.” Junie squeezed her. “That means it matters.”
“He might still die. The Convergence, the Hollow King—we don’t know if we can stop it.”
“Twelve days.” Junie’s voice was quieter now. “Aero gave me the numbers last night. The stellar alignment lands in twelve days. Whatever we’re going to do, we have twelve days to do it.”
Lunaria watched Hux laugh at something Narla said, watched the morning light catch the fading traces of shadowon his chest, watched him look up and find her eyes across the ruined garden.
He smiled. Just for her.
Worth it. He’s worth it.
For the first time in ten years, she didn’t want to run.
She wanted to stay.
TWENTY-FOUR
HUX
For a moment, he didn’t know where he was. The ceiling above him was wrong—slanted, with a skylight that framed a rectangle of night sky. The sheets beneath him were softer than his own, the mattress less rigid, the entire room smaller and warmer than anything in the Holt family home.
Then memory returned.
The attack. The void creatures pouring out of shadows. Cornelius’s fragment striking at Lunaria—and Hux throwing himself between them without a single coherent thought beyond no.
The darkness that had crawled across his skin like living ice.
And then—light. Blazing, brilliant light, pouring through him. Lunaria’s voice, desperate and furious, calling him back from wherever the void had been dragging him.
He touched his chest. The void’s marks were still there—faint dark lines mapping patterns across his skin, visible when he looked but fading by the hour. They didn’t hurt anymore. They just felt... different. Like scar tissue that hadn’t quite finished forming.
“You’re awake.”
Lunaria stood in the bedroom doorway, a mug in each hand. She looked exhausted—dark circles under her eyes, dried flower petals clinging to her shirt. But she was smiling, and the tension in his shoulders eased at the sight of her.
“How long was I out?”
“Three hours this time.” She crossed to the bed, setting both mugs on the nightstand before sliding onto the mattress beside him. Not on the edge—beside him, her hip against his, her hand finding his bare chest like she needed to feel his heartbeat for herself. “You’ve been sleeping on and off for two days. The healer said that’s normal—your body is processing the void exposure. But I was starting to worry you’d sleep through the Convergence entirely.”
Her fingers followed the fading shadow-veins absently, and his skin heated beneath her touch.
Two days. He’d lost two days.
“My father?—”
“Is fine. Recovering in his own way. Junie’s been running interference at Town Hall, telling everyone you have the flu.” Her mouth quirked. “The supernatural flu. Very contagious. No visitors allowed.”
He should have been irritated. Should have insisted on getting up, on returning to his responsibilities, on being the mayor Haven Shores expected. But when he tried to sit up, his arms trembled, and his vision swam, and the beast inside him made a sound that was distinctly unamused.
Rest,the beast rumbled. She’s here. Rest.
“Don’t even think about it.” Lunaria pushed him gently back against the pillows, then followed him down, propping herself on one elbow beside him. Her other hand stayed on his chest, warm and grounding. “You took a void-strike to the chest. You almost died. You’re staying in this bed until I say otherwise.”
“I have?—”
