Chapter 19 · Hostages at Bone Market

Cassian's safe house wasn't safe anymore. The moment Lucan kicked the door in with Mira bleeding in his arms, the healer was already packing. Jars clinked into a leather satchel. Scrolls got rolled tight. The air smelled like burnt sage and something sharper, medicinal, the kind of stink that clung to your throat.

"Out," Cassian said without looking up. "Whatever you brought, I don't want it."

"She's dying," Lucan said.

Cassian's hands stopped. He turned. His gaze went to Mira's face, pale as candle wax, then down to the bandage soaked black across her ribs. He swore under his breath and swept an arm across the table, clearing glass and metal onto the floor. "Put her there. Don't touch anything else."

Lucan laid her down. Mira's fingers were still locked around the hilt of her blade. He tried to pry them loose. She didn't let go.

"Stubborn," he muttered.

"Practical," she whispered back. Her eyes cracked open, fixed on Cassian. "You said you had a map. The one your contact sold. Gate sites, smuggler routes, all of it."

Cassian pressed a bundle of gauze against her side. Blood welled up fast.