The silence following Finn’s collapse was worse than the blizzard. It was the sound of a thousand broken oaths.
"Finn?" Marek’s voice was a high, thin reed of agony. He dropped to his knees in the slush, reaching for the withered, claw-like hand of the boy he’d trained since he was a pup. "Finn, look at me! Speak to me!"
But Finn couldn't speak. His lungs, now brittle as dried parchment, could only produce a wet, rattling whistle. His skin was so thin I could see the pulse in his neck flickering like a dying candle.
"You did this," Kael whispered. He wasn't looking at Silas anymore. He was staring at me, his eyes burning with a haine so pure it felt like a physical blow. "You didn't just kill him. You stole his very time. You stole his future."
"Kael, listen—" Silas started, but his vo
