The silence after Arabella left seemed louder than the roar of the monster. The cavern was destroyed—stone was cracked open, smoke was hissing out of molten scars in the walls, and the scent of ash was clinging to my lungs. My arms were shaking with fatigue, but I couldn’t unclench my hands from around my sword. Not when Wren’s stare was boring into me as if I’d just committed treason.
“Say you didn’t mean it,” he rasped, hoarse from smoke and rage.
I turned slowly to meet his glare. His sword was hanging loosely at his side, his knuckles were white as he held the hilt. He seemed as though he was holding himself together by willpower alone.
“She saved us,” I said, hating the sound of the words as soon as they left my mouth. “If she had—”
“Don’t.” He cut me off, each word was like a kni
