Page 61 of Zenith Tower

Marrow went still.

Beside me, Caspian’s hand tightened once at my waist. Relief came through our bond first. Fear followed, and with it a hurt he could not hide from me.

I covered his hand with mine.

Kieran stirred beneath us.

His eyes opened slowly. They moved past Hale and the healer before finding me.

His awareness touched mine through the completed line.

Recognition moved through it, followed by relief, warm and unguarded. He remembered the question he had asked and the answer we had both given.

“I can feel you,” he whispered.

His left hand lifted from the bed. I took it before the effort could cost him more.

He turned his face into my palm and closed his eyes again. His mouth touched the heel of my hand, a kiss so slight Imight not have felt it without the new line carrying the tenderness behind it.

Hale kept his fingers at Kieran’s pulse a moment longer than the healer needed.

The healer recovered first. She ordered space around the bed, fresh water, and another blanket. Her voice gave everyone something practical to obey.

Marrow did not move.

His gaze remained fixed on the completed line at my wrist.

“The administrator needs to see this,” he said.

“She can wait until they’re stable,” the healer replied.

Marrow looked at Kieran’s restored Mark, then at the blood on my hand. He opened his mouth and closed it again.

He stepped into the corridor and called for the door to be secured.

The knowledge would not remain in this room. The administrator would know as soon as Marrow reached her. The Council would not be far behind.

For the moment, Kieran’s pulse beat beneath my fingers and through the green-gold line, steady enough to feel.

Kieran

When I woke again, the room was dark except for the lamp beside the bed.

Astra sat beneath it with her head bowed and one hand wrapped around my wrist. Someone had washed the blood from her face. A faint red stain remained at the cuff of her sleeve, and her hair had dried in tangled strands around her shoulders.

I watched her until the bond stirred.

It was quieter than pain. Quieter than the Pull had ever been. Warmth moved through the completed line, carrying the edge of her exhaustion and the stubborn vigilance that had kept her in that chair long after anyone sensible would have slept.

Her fingers tightened.

“You’re awake.”

“Apparently dying didn’t take.” My voice scraped on the words.

The joke landed badly. I saw it in her face.

“Sorry,” I said. “Too soon.”