Miles's POV
I stared at the ring in my palm long after Zara had drifted off again. The infirmary was quiet, the only sound the soft tick of the old wall clock and the occasional whisper of wind from the open window.
She looked peaceful in sleep. Too peaceful for someone who'd almost torn the courtyard apart with raw, uncontrollable power.
And it had been my fault. Not directly. Not the poison. I wasn't that stupid. But I'd known something was off. I'd seen the warning signs, her erratic surges, the way her eyes glowed longer than they should. And still, I let her take the ring off. Let her believe she was ready.
She wasn't.
She was still dangerous. Not to me but to herself. To everyone around her.
I closed my fingers around the suppressing ring and let out a slow breath
