"Don't let me remember the eighth."
Sebastian's fingers tightened around Aliena's.
For the first time since he had awakened, there was no trace of amusement in his expression.
No teasing smile.
No arrogant remark.
No familiar spark in his golden-red eyes.
Only fear.
And Sebastian did not frighten easily.
Aliena looked at him, searching his face for some explanation that would make sense of the nightmare unfolding around them.
"Sebastian, what is the eighth?"
He closed his eyes.
"Something I should have taken to my grave."
"But you're alive."
"Unfortunately."
"Sebastian."
He opened his eyes and looked at her.
The familiar arrogance returned for half a second.
"What? You prefer me dead? You certainly have a strange way of showing affection."
She stared at him.
Then she struck his chest.
Not hard enough to hurt him.
Hard enough to make him understand how terrified she had been.
"Don't you ever joke about dying again!"
His expression softened.
"Aliena..."
