A star burned out today. Not one as big as Li, but one so much brighter.

In Korac’s arms, Sagan’s complexion paled until it matched his own. Gray. No longer enough blood to brighten it.

Blood.

He growled at the end of a sob as he tore fangs into his own wrist. Please, Elden. Please let this work. He held his wrist to her parted lips. Her last words lost on them.

Tameka groaned and crawled over, barely able to support her head. “Is she…”

Rayne shielded the group on the dais from Nox, who stared with no apparent emotion at the scene. Without turning, she called, “I need to know, Korac.”

He opened his mouth to choke on two words he promised he’d never have to say—

T.A.O. returned. With all the tension, the fighters jumped twice as high in alarm at her sudden reappearance. “I heard your cries in every corner of the Seam.”

That signature glow radiated from Rayne. “I need an answer, please.” The last left on a broken sob in three pitches.

It hurt him to look at Sagan. To see her skin so devoid of its warmth. So when he looked down and observed the color in her cheeks, he choked on a pitiful hopeful laugh. “It’s working!” Without hesitation, he sliced his healed wrists and dripped more blood onto her lips. To Rayne, he cried out, “I’m keeping her alive!”

Tameka took Sagan’s head into her lap to position better for the blood flow. The redhead spared him not exactly a smile, but a kind expression on her face wrought with physical and emotional exhaustion.

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The magnesium light condensed into a strange static around Rayne. Unmistakable. She turned her back to Nox, facing them. Xelan’s words from her voice haunted Korac’s dreams for the last month, “Get Sagan, and get out!”

He spared a sad look at Rayne. Her faint nod spoke volumes to him. She trusted him to save them.

The redhead beside him shrieked her General’s name with everything left in her as the entrance to Nox’s Castle on Cinder took the nacre chamber’s place. The bewildered First Wave Progeny rushed to check on them.

Korac glared at the Tritan following behind them. “I thought you were on Earth, Officer of the Third.”

The blue man stopped short of the distraught scene. “The tide turned in the human’s favor thanks to Peaches.” He winked at her.

She stared catatonic at the sky as if willing her best friend to fall from it.

Korac sliced through his veins again to support Sagan without looking at her. He couldn’t. If he did, every ounce of rational thought left his mind, and everything he wanted for their future wept from him in great draws on his sanity. No. Better to ask the Tritan, “So what are you doing here?”

He looked to the sky. “Our Weapon alone with Nox. The real fight.”

Tameka muttered, “Give. Her. A. Nacre.”

“Peaches?”

“He took it from her. Give her a new one.”

Tumu squatted to the dirt and checked on Tameka’s eyes. He snapped fingers in front of her face without so much as a reflexive blink. During which he casually offered to Korac, “Check her hand.”

Korac snarled, “What?!”

“Her nacre is in her hand.” The man slid his overcoat off and draped it around Tameka’s shoulders. To himself, he noted, “I’ve never seen anyone go into a shock with a nacre before.”

With little more thought for Tumu, Tameka, or another fucking thing, Korac opened Sagan’s hand to find her nacre and quickly placed it inside her unhealed chest. More familiar with the reverse of this act, he hoped this was enough. One more glance at Tameka reminded him of Merit’s former success. Distraught, he spared only a passing thought as to how the nacre found its way to her hand.

Korac whispered against Sagan’s fingers on his lips, “I promised I’d never let you go. And you promised to never go where I couldn’t find you. Don’t go, Sagan. Don’t make me find you in eternity.”