He made to move, but Zylah pressed a hand to his undamaged shoulder to stop him from stepping away, the touch of her skin against his sending a jolt through her fingertips, sparks dancing down her arm. “I’m almost finished,” she told him, her voice sounding more breathless than she’d intended. “Tell me what happened.”

He faced away to allow her to continue, his gaze fixed ahead on the canvas of the tent. “Zack was securing the weapons. Two vampires came for him as we were about to leave; the others couldn’t approach.” The words were clipped, his anger at Arlan unfurling for a moment before he locked it away.

Zylah imagined the way it would have all gone down, how he would have helped her brother when none of the others did. “Because of the vanquicite,” she murmured, the last of his wounds sealing shut beneath her fingertips, a wave of dizziness urging her to press her hands to the cot.

Holt dipped his chin, shifted to face her. He must have cleaned the blood from his hands before he’d begun tending to the wound on his back, fingers toying with the empty bell on his bracelet, his eyes fixed on her face. “The first I bound. But the second was fast, like Jesper was.”

“You… remember fighting Jesper?” Zylah fisted her hands into the sheets, her heart racing as the implications of that statement settled over her.

“Flashes of it,” he confessed, his attention flicking to her heart as if he could see it beating inside her chest, then back to her eyes. “The second attacked Zack, and I thought he was gone. The remaining scout had already returned with Maya and the others, so I was their only way out of there.” He canted his head, assessing. “Are you still angry with me?”

Some of the tension eased out of her at that. He was safe. Whole. And he was right beside her. Zylah clung to those truths as she made a show of considering her answer, one eyebrow arched at him. “A healthy chunk of it has been redirected at Arlan.” Another quirk at the corner of his mouth, and it was an effort for her not to lean up and press her lips to it.

“Only a chunk?” he asked, laughter lining his words.

But then Zylah remembered what Nye had said to her. Remembered the reason Holt had gone on that mission was because he couldn’t set foot in Virian without fear of harming his friends. “Let me try and remove the command.”

“Tomorrow.” Zylah began to protest but he added, “First thing. When you haven’t already healed half the camp.” This time he didn’t hide his smile or the reverence in his tone.

It was impossible to be angry with him. He’d saved her brother’s life; no matter how much his time in the vanquicite cell had changed him, his heart was the same. Her gaze lowered to the scar Raif had given him, and this time Zylah couldn’t help herself from reaching for it, fingers tracing over the ruined skin, warm against hers. “Maybe you could tell me more about what happened so that I can better understand. If you’re comfortable with that.”

“Which part?” Holt asked roughly, though he didn’t pull away from her touch.

“All of it.” Zylah dragged her eyes away from his chest to meet his, afraid of what she might see in them. Or rather, what she wouldn’t. “Starting with what you remember from the moment Raif gave you this scar.”

Holt caught her hand. “I saw you,” he said quietly. His fingers slid to the scars at her wrist until he could examine them, the pad of his thumb swiping over her skin. “You were bleeding. Here.”

Zylah stilled. “Aurelia.” Her fear threatened to surface and she eased her wrist from his hold, clearing her throat. He was right. If she was going to help him without causing him pain, she needed to rest, let her magic replenish. His too.

“Your magic is growing,” he said, as if he’d known which direction her thoughts had taken.

“You’re deflecting.” She smiled up at him, but she couldn’t hide the sadness in it. Not from him. And she needed to know more before she tried anything further with his mind.

A throat cleared, and Holt’s and Zylah’s gazes snapped to the opening of the tent where her brother stood.

“You should be resting,” she told him, already on her feet to guide him to the empty cot.

“That’s what I usually do in my tent.”

Zylah bit back her smile, glancing between Zack and Holt. “You’re sharing a tent?”

Her brother shrugged. “We’re short on space. Kej offered but Holt declined.”

“I’ll bet he did.” Zylah beamed at Holt and he shook his head, trying to hide his smile and failing.

“You can see?” Zack asked, eyes roving over her face.

Zylah made sure he was settled before turning to the bowl and pitcher over by the mirror, cleaning up the space out of habit after years in her father’s apothecary. “Not quite. I’m trying to get used to what I have left of my eyesight and my other vision working together. If Okwata’s anti-venom doesn’t work, I’ll need to be prepared.”

Quietness fell over the tent at her words, and she spared a glance in the mirror to see Holt’s attention fixed on her, his mouth a tight line, all earlier traces of lightness entirely gone.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said as brightly as she could manage. “I’ve accepted it.” That part wasn’t a lie. But Zylah didn’t confess her concerns over how the venom was being kept at bay, how her magic was constantly working at keeping it from the rest of her body, or of what the implications were if she or Holt ever depleted themselves so much that the venom was released.

“I’m sure Okwata will have another anti-venom for you to try soon,” Zack offered, shoving an arm under his pillow like he used to do when they were children as he settled into his cot. “Haven’t slept in four days,” he mumbled. “Forgive me for taking a little nap.”

Zylah felt Holt’s heavy gaze on her as she watched her brother, a thousand nights in their father’s cottage flitting through her mind. He wasn’t a boy anymore. Not since he’d been Arnir’s Blade. He led the Black Veil, worked alongside the Fae without a second thought to their differences. Could fight Nye’s soldiers and hold his own. But she couldn’t bear the look he would give her if he knew the truth. Couldn’t live with the way it would distract him. Because she needed him focused. Needed him safe, and though she wouldn’t be able to protect him, she could do this.

“Thank you for bringing him back to me,” she told Holt quietly. “You should get some rest, too. We’ll work on the command in the morning?”