He slung her across his back, ignoring the way her armor dug into him. Brann clutched the shard they risked to get, Lira cursed the air, and Alek reappeared with a nod.
They ran.
Outside, under the dying light of dusk, Cassian laid her down beside the ruins, pulled off his coat and draped it over her. He pressed two fingers to her neck. Still beating.
Barely.
“Lira,” he said, not looking up. “Water.”
She tossed him a canteen.
Cassian tipped it gently against her lips. She coughed—just once—but swallowed.
Good.
Brann approached, wide-eyed. “Is she?—?”
“She’s alive,” Cassian said, too sharply. “She’sstrongerthan this.”
But even as he said it, he looked down at her pale face and felt something twist inside him.
She’d almost died.
He couldn’t get the image out of his head—the moment she fell, the way her body crumpled, like all the fire had gone out of her.
He sat beside her, silent for a long time.
Lira pulled the others away to set camp.
Only when the fire was lit and the stars began to creep out did Seraphine stir.
She turned her head slowly, eyes barely open.
“…Did we get it?”
Cassian leaned closer.
“Yeah. We got it.”
She gave a faint, crooked smile. “Told you I’d get us through.”
“You damn near didn’t.”
Her smile faded. She looked at him then, and something unspoken passed between them.
Fear. Relief. Maybe even something like affection.
He took her hand without thinking. Held it.
“Don’t do that again.”
“Then don’t let me walk in alone.”
He squeezed her hand tighter.
They sat there, two half-broken pieces of something they didn’t understand.
Above them, the stars watched in silence.
