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Valen exhales as if he was punched. He steps back. “You think I could hurt you? You, my love? Do you think me so cruel after everything?”

Her eyes shine when she says, “If I killed your father in such a way? Yes, if not for revenge, then to end my corrupted suffering.”

Raw pain flickers over his face, straining his voice. “You still believe only the worst of me, that you’d be so afraid that I would strike you down when I would never lay a hand on you. It sickens me to even consider it.”

Her voice grows stronger and louder with her surging emotions. “You asked for the truth, and I gave it to you. For the love of the Weave, Valen, for a single moment think about what it was like for me. What if you discovered Lucas dead and could no longer trust your own mind? Wouldn’t you be afraid? Because I was terrified.”

The silence stretches, and I study Valen’s face. There’s a tension within him, a fear that sucks what little color is left in his complexion.

Tori furiously wipes at her eyes and says, “I really was on my way to tell you, Valen. I’m not lying even though you believe the worst in me. I just needed a moment to catch my breath before doing it.”

My heart pounds as I count the seconds. Valen is stiff, his eyes too wide. The smallest of twitches shifts his head, the muscles in his jaw flicking like a buzzing gnat is circling him. What I wouldn’t give to look into his mind.

“Perhaps,” is the only thing he says. I’ve never seen anyone so far away while physically being a few steps back. It reminds me of when I learned of my grandma’s passing. I was so lost, so in pain.

My two hands flex against the mirror before I stretch my right arm out to Valen. He’s just barely within reach, and my fingers glide down his crisp white shirtsleeve before sliding into his slacks pocket. My fingers slip between his and it forces him to shift closer. I withdraw our clutched hands and say in a low, harsh whisper filled with so much surging agony as flashes of my mother and grandmother’s dead bodies threaten to break what is left of my spirit, “I’m so sorry for your loss, V.”

He blinks, then his glowing eyes meet mine. Slowly, life returns to the vacant expression. It’s so subtle that I doubt I would’ve noticed if I wasn’t inspecting him so carefully. The corners of his eyes tighten, and his fingers curl over my hand to return my grip. The smallest of tremors ripples down him.

I want to pull him into my arms. If I let go of his hand, he might leave, and something tells me that I’ll never repair the damage done by that one small act if he walks out that door.

Valen’s gaze sweeps me and his mask cracks. “You don’t have to keep touching the mirror. She won’t disappear until she wills it.”

“Thank fuck, because this was getting awkward.” I let go of the mirror and drag him into my arms. He’s so stiff in my hold, but I don’t care. I use my height against him and, slowly, his muscles release and his face tips down to hide in my neck. My hand slides up to tangle in his short hair. “What do you need? Just tell me, and I’ll get it for you.”

His exhale tickles my neck, and he breathes in gulps of me. A warmth floods my chest and I tighten my arms around him. His arms shift, and his hands rest on my hips, twitching like he’s not sure he can return my embrace. I glide my hand up and down his back before slipping under his shirt to press against his slowly reheating skin. His breath catches, and his shoulders loosen to lean into me.

Then all that softness vanishes when Tori’s voice echoes from the mirror. “He needs to go to Vincentius’ body before the spell preserving it fades.”

Valen’s chest expands against me. There’s the smallest of strain to his tone when he says, “The Magistrate is waiting for more magician reinforcements to arrive in order to control the bookshop. We have a small window to get to the basement before that.”

Tori gasps, her hands flattening on her chest, as if unconsciously trying to pull herself back together. It draws both of our attention back to her. The mist thickens, dimming the glow of her eyes. “How… how is Peripetia?”

Valen and I exchange looks.

Our silence makes it worse, and Tori’s hands tremble. “The shop is still standing? We can rebuild it?”

A muscle in Valen’s jaw flicks, and my lips thin in understanding. I turn back to Tori and take this burden head-on. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you. The shop is a mess, Tor. The grimoires are running wild, and the Magistrate has all the evidence he needs to prove that we’re the grimoire smugglers.”

Her eyes glisten, the whites visible around her irises. That dark line tearing her in half pulses and begins to grow. My stomach drops. She’s not going to understand. She’s going to either dig in or break down.

Valen sighs so softly that the only reason I’m aware of it is because of my arm around him. His voice is calm, steady, even gentle despite how tight his body is. “One step at a time, my love. We need to get you free of Antonia’s statue and ensure Alasdair is put down before facing anything else.”

Astoria meets Valen’s gaze. The air is so heavy that it’s nearly unbearable. Grief and turmoil swirl behind Valen’s eyes, but his face softens ever so slightly. Astoria’s breath hitches, and she bows her head. I wish I could hold her, my heart aching with the urge to reach through the mirror and pull her close.

The mist circles her in a comforting embrace. Tori arches into it with a small whimper. She nods as if agreeing with something. Then with a rough shake, she straightens. The dark line running down her body begins to thin again when she says, “Okay, yes. You’re right. Nothing matters while Alasdair still lives.”

The mist fully retreats from her, and her image is clear once again. My breath stops. There are scars all over Tori’s chest from where she had ruptured open and healed back that weren’t there moments before. My hand tightens on Valen, and he shifts in silent confirmation that he sees it, too. I don’t know much about souls, but whatever is happening can’t be good.

Tori’s breathing speeds. “First things first, Valen has to get to the basement and burn the body to ensure Vincentius’ soul passes safely to the Tapestry.”

Valen’s small shiver releases some of the tension within his frame. I keep my arm firmly wrapped around him in case he begins to sag.

The scars on Tori’s chest weep blood, her gaze far off and unfocused. “Alasdair… he’s too powerful, but if Valen claims his inheritance when Vincentius is put to rest, then you could stand a chance.”

“You’ll be okay waiting? You’re safe?” I search Tori desperately. The blood drips down her body in long rivulets.

Tori nods, but it’s more of a sporadic bobbing. “Jinx is hiding us in the Weave while I recover. I’ve been asleep, but something woke me. Which is good. Now I can help you. I’ll follow you in the bookshop through mirrors to make sure you’re okay.”