Page 62 of Zenith Tower

“Much too soon.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“Most of the day. The healer checked you twice. She says the Mark is holding.”

I flexed my right hand beneath hers. Every finger answered cleanly. No tremor. No numbness spreading from the smallest knuckle inward. I lifted my arm, waiting for the familiar catch in my shoulder, and found only the pull of tired muscle.

Astra followed the movement with her eyes.

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

I said it again because neither of us trusted the first answer.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

For three years, pain had occupied the joint so completely that its absence felt like a room after someone had taken out all the furniture. I rolled my shoulder carefully. Skin moved over bone. The Mark warmed, whole and quiet beneath it.

Astra’s breath left her.

“Come here,” I said.

She moved from the chair to the edge of the bed. I made room for her, though there was nowhere near enough, and she leaned down until her ear rested over my heart.

I laid my hand against the back of her head.

Once, there had been another rhythm beneath my pulse. A patient ticking that grew louder whenever the fracture advanced. I had heard it in silent rooms, in the pause before sleep, in every embrace I ended before someone could notice how carefully I was breathing.

Now my heart beat alone.

Astra listened for a long time.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she said.

The words warmed the line between us, but grief remained caught beneath them. I felt the room as sheremembered it: the cold of my skin, Hale’s hand at my throat, the healer reaching to pull her away.

“You found me.”

“I didn’t know if it would work.” She lifted her head. “I knew the line could carry some of the strain. Everything after that was instinct.”

“You waited for me to choose.”

“I had to.”

“I know.” I touched the completed line at her wrist. “I remember.”

Her fear eased a little, though it did not leave. I could feel how easily it might return, how close she still was to the moment when my presence had begun to disappear beneath her hands.

“Where are Hale and Caspian?” I asked.

“The healer sent them back to their rooms. She told Marrow separating us before she understood the new bond would be foolish. Hale argued until she threatened to have him removed.”

“That sounds like him.”

“Caspian didn’t argue.” She looked down at our hands. “He felt the bond close. He was relieved. And it hurt him.”

“I didn’t do it to hurt him.”