Cassian’s POV
The silence in the medical wing was louder than the screams at the gala forty-eight hours ago.
I paced the length of the room, my boots clicking loudly against the polished marble. Every instinct in my body was screaming to shift, to tear through the walls, but there was nothing to fight. There was only the rhythmic beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor connected to Aria.
She looked fragile. Her skin was pale and dull, especially the faint outline of where her golden mark used to be. Now, it was just bruised, sensitive-looking skin.
"Stop pacing, Cassian," Noah said from the corner. He sat in a high-backed leather chair, his shirt buttoned to the chin to hide the purple, thumb-shaped bruises Aria had left on his throat. He looked like a king who had lost his crown. "Yo
