The infirmary reeked of marrow and blood. Jade’s life comes and goes in wheezing breaths, his bandaged chest rising in shallow jerks. I hovered by his cot, fists clenched, my nails biting crescents and crimson in my palms. He’s been unconscious for hours.
Two days, he’d said. Two days until Osiris comes. The healers informed me because I wasn’t around myself — calming tensions, yes — But it’s no excuse. I haven’t left his side since.
Jade’s eyelids flickered as I leaned in, my shadow falling across his face. His good eye opened, glassy and unfocused. “Ryanna…”
“I’m here.” My voice sounded foreign — steady, cold, the voice of a leader. Not the woman who hadn’t eaten or slept, who kept staring at the tent flap, waiting for Casper to stride through it.
He coughed, spittle flecking his cra
