[Tessa's POV]
Soren looks terrible.
The bandages wrapped around his shoulder are pristine white against his pale skin, but there are shadows under his eyes I've never seen before. His breathing is steady now—thank gods, it's steady—but each rise and fall of his chest reminds me how close I came to losing him.
How close the arrow came to finding me instead.
"You're staring," he says, and his voice is weak but holds that familiar hint of amusement. "I must look worse than I thought."
"You look like you took an arrow meant for me." My hands twist in my lap. "So yes. Terrible."
"Mm. Always honest." The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. "I missed that about you."
The words shouldn't hurt. Shouldn't make my throat tight. But they do.
"How are you feeling?" I ask, because it's easier than addressing what he just said.
"Like I got shot with a poisoned arrow." He shifts slightly, winces. "The healers say I'll make a full recovery. Might have an impressive scar to show for it, though."
"Soren—"
"I'm teasing." His hand reaches for mine across the blanket, fingers weak but insistent. "I'm alright, Tessa. Truly. It takes more than one arrow to kill a Ravencrest."
I let him take my hand. Let him squeeze my fingers with what little strength he has. His skin is warm—alive—and the relief is so profound it makes me dizzy.
"I never expected you to do that," I whisper. "To shield me with your body. To—"
"What? Protect you?" Something shifts in his expression. Pain that has nothing to do with his wound. "I should have been doing that all along. Should have stood between you and every cruel word, every dismissive glance, every moment they tried to make you feel small." His grip tightens. "I'd do it again. In a heartbeat. Every time."
My vision blurs with tears I refuse to let fall. "You almost died."
"But I didn't." His thumb brushes across my knuckles. "And you're safe. That's what matters."
"That's not—" I stop, breathe. "You can't keep sacrificing yourself for me. Not after everything. Not when we're not even—"
"Not even what? Married?" His laugh is soft, pained. "The bond is gone, yes. But that doesn't change what I feel. Doesn't change that when I saw that arrow, the only thing I thought was 'not her.' Never her."
The tears come anyway. Silent, hot, streaming down my cheeks while he watches with eyes too knowing, too gentle.
"I don't know what to do with that," I admit. "With you being—being this."
"This?"
"The person I needed you to be these last years." The words come out broken. "The person who would throw himself in front of arrows. Who would comfort me. Who would—" I can't finish.
"I know." His voice is rough. "I know I'm too late. I know I destroyed what we had. But I'm still here, Tessa. Still trying. And I'll keep trying until—"
The door opens. Sebastian stands in the doorway, silver eyes assessing Soren's condition with clinical precision before finding mine.
"It's time," he says quietly. "The preparations for the Coronation need to begin."
The coronation. The reason someone tried to kill me.
I stand, reluctantly pulling my hand from Soren's. "I'll come back. After—"
"Go." Soren's smile is real despite his exhaustion. "Go become the heir you were always meant to be. I'll still be here when you're done terrifying the nobility."
I want to laugh. Want to say something clever. But my throat is too tight, so I just nod and move toward the door.
Sebastian steps aside to let me pass. I'm halfway down the corridor when I hear it—Soren's voice, barely above a whisper but carrying in the quiet.
"Take care of her. For me."
I stop. Don't turn around. Just listen.
"It's going to be okay," Sebastian says, and there's that confidence he always carries. That certainty that makes you believe him even when everything's falling apart.
Then, quieter—more intimate than I've ever heard him speak—"Get better soon. Don't keep us worrying."
Us.
Something warm and complicated blooms in my chest. But I don't have time to examine it because Sebastian is already beside me, his hand at the small of my back, guiding me forward.
"He'll be fine," Sebastian says. Not a question. A statement of fact.
"I know."
"Do you?"
I glance at him. "You just promised him it would be okay. I'm choosing to believe you."
His lips curve slightly. "Wise choice."
The ceremonial chamber is nothing like the throne room. It's older, deeper in the estate, carved from stone that predates most vampire houses. Ancient symbols cover every surface, glowing faintly with magic I can feel against my skin like static electricity.
"The coronation requires specific preparations," Sebastian explains, his voice echoing slightly. "Fasting. Meditation. Magical conditioning to ensure you can bear the weight of House Nyx's power without being consumed by it."
"How long?"
"Twelve hours." He gestures to the center of the chamber where a circle has been marked with silver. "You'll remain in that circle. No food. No water. No contact with anyone outside these walls."
Twelve hours. Alone. With nothing but my thoughts and the weight of the Coronation pressing down on me.
"What if I can't do it?" The question slips out before I can stop it. "What if I'm not strong enough?"
"You are."
"You don't know that."
"I do." Sebastian moves closer, and there's something soft in his silver eyes. "For a list of extraordinary things that you’ve done I would soon need a whole tome. You're strong enough, Tessa. You've always been strong enough."
The words should comfort me. Should make this easier.
Instead, they make the enormity of it all crash down. In a week I become heir. In a week I'm officially the target every house that fears change will aim for. In a week I take on power and responsibility and danger I'm nowhere near ready for.
"I'm terrified," I whisper.
"Good." His hand finds my shoulder. "Fear keeps you sharp. Keeps you careful. The moment you stop being afraid is the moment you get sloppy."
"That's not helpful."
"It's honest."
I look at the circle. At the symbols glowing softly in the dim light. At the space I'm supposed to occupy for twelve hours while I prepare to become something I'm still not sure I'm capable of being.
"I'm supposed to do this alone," I say.
"Yes."
"I don't want to be alone."
Silence. Then Sebastian's hand falls from my shoulder, and I think he's leaving. Think he's going to remind me that rules are rules and preparation is necessary and I need to face this by myself.
Instead, he walks to the edge of the circle and sits. Just outside the silver line. Close enough to see. Close enough to hear. Close enough that I won't be alone even while I'm isolated.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Sitting." He leans back against the wall, getting comfortable. "The rules say you can't have contact with anyone. They don't say anything about someone being present."
"Sebastian—"
Something in my chest cracks. Splits open. And for the first time since Soren fell, since the arrow, since everything—I feel like I can actually breathe.
"Thank you," I whisper.
He nods once. "Now get in the circle. We're wasting time."
I step into the silver ring, and the moment my foot crosses the line, magic flares up around me. Not painful. Just present. Reminding me that I'm committing to this. That soon enough, everything changes.
I sink to my knees in the center and close my eyes.