My girl must have been terrified. Luka trembled beside me as he came to the same conclusions.
Time lost all meaning.
I wanted to cry, but my eyes were bone dry.
Corvus hoisted Aran into his arms, and all of us surrounded her. Touched her reverently. Reassured ourselves she was okay.
Cobra picked up Sadie, and Jax scooped up Jinx.
The RJE device was activated.
Crack.
The snow fell softly.
Sunlight shone in muted shades.
We sprinted into the medical barracks. We screamed at doctors as they ran around frantically. They attached the girls to tubes and gave them enchanted medicine.
There was barely anyone else being treated—the usual injured foot soldiers were missing.
I didn’t care.
Luka tangled his fingers in Aran’s curls, and I held her hand.
The kings also sat around her still form and kept their hands on her like they were afraid she would disappear.
The shifters were similarly gathered around Jinx and Sadie. The boy named Warren staggered into the room and shouted.
A doctor announced that it was good that they were all in a healing sleep, and Corvus screamed flames into his face.
I agreed with his sentiment.
Sixteen hours, twelve minutes, and fours second after we’d found her, Aran woke up. One eye was a darker blue than usual and highlighted the gray tone in the other.
She didn’t smile when she saw us.
She didn’t frown.
She stared blankly forward with a shell-shocked expression.
Her head whipped to the side where Sadie and Jinx were hooked up to fluids, still asleep. Ripping a needle out of her hand, she staggered over to them while we tried to stop her.
She ignored us.
Pushing the shifters out of the way, she stood between their sleeping forms and grabbed their hands.
She fell to her knees.
Bowed her head like she was praying.
And laughed.
Chapter 57
Aran
BONDS THAT CAN’T BREAK
Acatalepsy （noun）： an ancient Skeptic doctrine that human knowledge amounts only to probability and never to certainty.
DAY 38, HOUR 12
I was covered in ice and it felt like a hug.
The bottom of the bunk above my head was also iced over.
After everything that had happened, weirdly, I didn’t feel any sadness.
I was overwhelmed with gratitude that all three of us had survived against unmistakable odds.
When we’d gotten back to the camp, immense relief had bowled me over.
It was over.
All three of us had beaten horrible odds and lived.
It felt like a miracle.
On top of surviving, for the first time in my life, I had closure over why I’d started suffering when I was fourteen years old.
Most of all, I was grateful that my entire soul wasn’t missing like I’d initially thought. A small piece I could handle. It made it a fixable problem.
I’d successfully processed my grief （I was delusional）。
The body draped across me like a blanket shifted, and I grunted as they kneed me in the crotch.
“Are you still crying?” Sadie asked as she sniffled and buried her face in the blankets near my head.
“Uh—yes,” I lied, just so she wouldn’t feel alone.
Sadie sobbed, “Me too.”
“I didn’t notice,” I replied. She’d been wailing for hours straight, and I was concerned about how she was still going.
Her labored breathing was loud in the mostly empty bedroom.
She was safe and alive.
In my arms.
Sadie’s mates and the rest of my legion were waiting for us outside in the blizzard. They stayed away outside out of respect for us—Sadie had also threatened to enslave everyone with her blood if they didn’t leave us alone.
The latter had played a big part in them giving us the room.
“Can I leave now?” Jinx asked from the floor beside the bed. She was wrapped in blankets and had bandages around her head. Sadie was holding her hand, and I had my free hand on her shoulder.
Jinx complained but didn’t pull away from our touch.
When I’d woken up after a restful sleep, I’d had startling clarity that Jinx was as much a victim as the rest of us. She’d been beaten and abused by the leaders for years. She’d lost a leg in the Legionnaire Games, just so I could earn my wings.
Jinx was a pawn as much as any of us.
If I could try to forgive Lothaire for abandoning me as a child, then I could do the same for the woman who’d been tortured worse than any of us.
When we needed her, she’d saved us.
A few weeks ago, I would have spiraled at her revelations and moped. I would have refused to forgive her and would have punished us both.