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“No. Fern, stop.” Lunara weakly wrestled herself away and plopped back onto her pile of cushions. “Just…wait.”

That’s it, breathe. Give the ceiling a chance to stop spinning.

A glass appeared in front of her face a second later but was gone just as quickly.

“I’m at the end of my considerable patience, Fae,” Sokar growled, barely snatching the cup out of the way when Fern tried to knock it from his hand. “Calm down before your heart gives out and one of you really is dead. It’s water.”

Fern stared at him, then at the glass, before snapping, “Fine.”

“Fine.” He squatted down and helped Lunara drink to the last drop as he massaged her scalp. “Just relax. There you go. Give it a second to help the rest bleed out of you.”

It did just that, her body thawing. “That was…” Lunara shook her head, speechless.

“I know.” Sokar gave her shoulder a pat and stood. “And I’m sure yours was more bizarre than most, considering who and what you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fern hissed.

“Sweet, weeping—” Sokar bit out. “It means someone chosen by the Sisters to wield the Tear Stone and be mated to an Imperial, while also being featured in our one and only prophecy, is probably fairly high on their list of blessed favorites. One such as that, sleeping so close to the Fount…” He turned to Lunara, a furrow between his arched brows. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she murmured. “I had a dream.”

A vision, more like, and Lunara saw the world all the clearer for it.

“Fern is right.” She untangled herself from the mass of pillows and scrambled up. “We need to go.” Searching the room, she located the book on a nearby table and moved to grab it. “Can I take this?”

“No.” Sokar was there in an instant, his pupils narrowing to vertical slits as he slapped a hand over hers, holding her there. “You will die if you do that.”

“Get the fuck off of her, you scaly bastard.” Fern clawed him, her nails raking down his arm, but he ignored it.

“Fern, stop. I’ve got it.” Lunara turned her attention back to Sokar. “Why?”

“Because that’s what happens to those who steal from this place.”

Her fingers curled beneath his, crinkling the book’s pages. “I don’t think I will.”

“Don’t be a damned fool. If anything happens to you—” Sokar’s jaw ticked. “You cannot take it.”

“Even if the Sisters gave it to me and it’s mine?”

“Your dream…” His gaze searched hers, his irises the deepest purple she’d ever seen. “It wasn’t a dream, was it?”

“No.”

It was past and present and future, thrust together in violent, chaotic bursts. Lost truths and looming endings. Questions and their answers, if she could decipher it.

“How are you so certain?” he whispered, his grip tightening. “How do you know?”

His quiet desperation seemed personal.

“Because I think…”

Endellion called her sister in the chasm. Told her to accept her bright place in the sky. To burn and shine. In that moment, Lunara had been a star goddess in her own right. Felt it to her marrow.

And what was it the beast called you?

Ah, yes.

A Celestial whore.