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“She’s supposed to be dead!” he roared, shaking me.

I flinched.

She had been dead; the memory of her lifeless body haunting me to this day.

“Say something, damn it!”

I wasn’t sure how to explain what I had done, so I settled with, “I couldn’t let her go.”

Adrian pushed off me, balling his hands into fists at his sides; the slightest bit of smoke seeping from them. “You tampered with life and death, Leo. Do you know what The Nine will do once they find out? We’re talking execution. For the both of you.”

Ancient magic flared alive inside me at the threat; darkness writhing at the thought of losing Bryn again. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

Adrian scoffed at my declaration and paced the old wooden floorboards. He had yet to change out of his dirty uniform, still working through the events of last night. “That’s really her?” he asked, his voice lowering for the first time since we’d arrived at my office.

I tried not to notice the way his voice broke on the word her.

Adrian was a warrior. A solid man with a hard attitude. His distraught appearance now made me feel the slightest bit of guilt for keeping a secret like this from him.

I strode to my desk, reaching for a bottle of amber liquid. “Yes,” I answered, taking a drink.

It had been a few hours since we’d returned home with Bryn. She’d been unconscious when we’d called for the healer.

“It makes sense now—why you were so hell-bent on getting to Six when word came of an attack,” Adrian said, snatching the liquor from my hands.

“She wouldn’t have lasted five more minutes if we hadn’t intervened.”

“Still . . . if anyone finds out she’s here⁠—”

“They won’t. She’ll return to Six on the next full moon.”

Adrian laughed mockingly. “You think you can keep her hidden for a month?” He raked a hand through his dark hair, sighing. “As one of your trusted advisers, I advise you to reconsider your grand plan.”

But it was too late. The portals were closed. There would be no travel until the next full moon, forcing Adrian to be compliant.

Adrian tugged at his hair in frustration, likely arriving at the same conclusion.

He appeared tired.

That made two of us.

“Does she remember us?” he asked, before taking a healthy gulp of the strong liquid.

“From what I can tell, no. But rebirth is tricky magic. Who knows what the long-term effects of it are.” Not to mention rebirth was illegal, making it nearly impossible to find records of it for reference. Based on Bryn’s lack of reaction to seeing Adrian and me, I had to assume she didn’t have any memories of us.

“So,” Adrian whispered, “she’s Bryn, but not?”

I had a fucking headache. “Something like that.”

A quick knock sounded on the door, then a gray-haired man opened it, hobbling inside the room, uninterested in waiting for me to greet him at the door, or allowing him permission to enter my office.

“She’s stable,” the old man announced, “and asleep.”

I exhaled, not realizing I’d been holding my breath.

“She’s suffered a concussion and extensive bruising, but no broken bones.” The elderly healer hobbled over to me and plopped a small medicine pouch against my palm. “Mix this with her drink every few hours. It will keep the swelling down and ease her pain.”

I nodded, accepting the instruction from one of the few men I trusted. “Thank you, Alister.”