“But you still came after me. Why?”
He let out a sound between an exhale and a scoff.
“What?” I said.
“I just—nothing. Just turn around so I can check your wings.”
My wings.
The thought made the blood drain from my face. Oh, Goddess. I’d been so disoriented, the pain so constant, that the terrible reality of what had happened to them hadn’t yet sunk in.
They had been nailed through. Many times.
He settled behind me. “Give me some room back here.”
I obeyed, wincing as I edged forward on the bed, my legs folded beneath me. He let out a breath through his teeth, and my stomach turned.
My new wings—the only gift of these last horrible months. Shredded.
I choked out, bracing myself for the answer, “How do they look?”
“I’m glad you killed that depraved bitch. If she’d been alive when I got there…”
He didn’t need to finish the sentence.
My throat was thick. “So it’s bad?”
“She nailed you to the fucking wall.”
“I couldn’t spirit them away. I couldn’t—”
“It’s hard to do. Harder than getting them out, and nearly impossible if they’re injured, even for those who were born with them. I should have made sure I taught you that before I left you. That was stupid of me.”
His voice softened at that, and I winced at it.
“I don’t need pity. Tell me the truth.” My words wavered a little, despite my best efforts. “They’re ruined, right?”
Silence.
Horrible silence.
The bed shifted. Raihn leaned around me, turning my head by my chin so I was looking into his face.
“That’s what you think? That you’ll never fly again?”
My face must have said enough.
I might’ve expected his expression to soften, but instead, it grew harder, like I’d offended him.
“You’re made for the sky, Oraya. Never let anyone take that away from you. Of course you’ll fly again.” He released me and returned to my back. Under his breath, he muttered, “Like I’d ever let that happen.”
My exhale was shaky with relief.
“So they’ll heal?”
“It’ll take some time, but they will heal. They already look a hell of a lot better than they did.”
They will heal. I had never heard three more beautiful words. Raihn said them like he’d will it into truth if he had to.
I heard rummaging behind me, and the sound of something unscrewing—a jar, maybe? I tried to look over my shoulder with limited success.
“What’s that?”
“Medicine. You’re due.”
I couldn’t turn enough to see what Raihn held—at least not without more pain than I was interested in—but I eyed the slight glow against the bedside table. It was good stuff, whatever he’d gotten.
There was a long, awkward silence.
“Do you mind if I—？” he asked.
Touch me. He’d have to touch me.
“I could get Mische if you want,” he said, “She’s out right now, but—”
“No,” I said curtly. “It’s fine. You’ve already been doing it, anyway.”
“It’s going to hurt, probably.”
“It’s fi—”
My body seized. My vision went white.
“Fuck,” I breathed.
“Thought it would be better if you didn’t have warning.”
Oh, I recognized that line. I half-smiled, half-grimaced as he moved on to another cut.
“So this is revenge,” I said. “I understand now.”
“Got me. You did a good job patching up my back, though. I’ll return the favor. Promise.”
A lump rose in my throat as I thought about that night for the first time in months—the night Jesmine had tortured Raihn for hours in the wake of the attack against the Moon Palace. So much about the memory now felt… different. More complicated.
“Must have been hard for you that night,” I said.
“Getting stitched up or getting tortured?”
“The questioning. You didn’t break.”
Jesmine’s methods were… thorough. Honed to perfection for their intended purpose, and that purpose was getting information out of unwilling participants.
“I wasn’t lying,” he said. “I wasn’t responsible for the attack on the Moon Palace.”
I peered over my shoulder and shot him a flat look.
He huffed a laugh. “I guess I’ve earned that face. But I’d come too far to let one woman with a knife bring me down.” Then, after a pause, “Well. That woman with a knife. Met another one who was a whole different story.”