Caelira lay motionless on the bed, her chest rising faintly, pale against the sheets. Riven sat close, his fingers locked tightly around her hand as though he could anchor her spirit by sheer will. His jaw was clenched, his entire body vibrating with suppressed rage.

“I’m taking her far away from you,” he growled, his voice low but sharp enough to cut stone. “As far as possible, Therion. You will never touch her again.”

Therion stood at the foot of the bed, his hands folded behind ...