Cassian woke hard, breath held, hands locked in the blanket. Something tugged low in his chest, not pain, not a voice—just pressure, steady and cold, as if an invisible hand had hooked a chain inside him and started to pull.
Not Ravyn. Not the triad bond.
Older. Colder.
Valerius.
He sat up and rubbed the heel of his palm over his sternum, like he could grind the feeling out. The triple knot that tied him to Ravyn and Grayson warmed faintly in answer, a quiet pulse saying here, here, but the old pull kept dragging.
He slipped from the cot, careful not to wake anyone, and opened the door.
“Cassian?” Ravyn’s voice carried from the hall, low and alert. She stepped out barefoot, hair mussed, her mark a soft glow against her skin. “You’re pale. What happened?”
He didn’t dress it up. “My f
