Midnight Frost

had said he would probably make a full recovery, but the faint, hollow sound of his cane hitting the floor caused a fresh wave of guilt to surge through me—because it should have been me hobbling around instead of him. As soon as we figured out exactly what the silver laurel did, I was going to use one of the leaves on him to make him as strong and healthy as he’d been before.
    Still, despite my guilt, I made myself smile as Nickamedes walked over to me and carefully slid the books in his arm down onto the counter.
    “Anything?” I asked.
    I wasn’t the only one doing research. As soon as he’d been released from the infirmary, Nickamedes had started stockpiling books to go through in hopes that they might contain some information about the silver laurel leaves.
    He shook his head. “Not in these books. But don’t worry, Gwendolyn, we’ll find out more about the laurels. It’ll just take some time.”
    I looked at his too-thin face, the tired slump in his shoulders, and the way he had to lean on the cane just to stay upright. More guilt surged through me, along with anger. Not for the first time, I made myself and Nickamedes a silent promise—that the Reapers were going to pay for what they’d done to him.
    “Gwendolyn?”
    “Yeah,” I said, pushing my dark thoughts away and forcing myself to smile a little bigger and brighter. “I know you’ll find out something about the leaves. It’ll just take some time, like you said.”
    “Anyway,” he replied. “You can shelve those. I’ve got some more books to go through in my office. I want to start researching the mistletoe too, in case it has any special properties.”
    I nodded. Nickamedes gave me a tired smile before he slowly turned and headed back through the glass door. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, making sure he made it back to his office and was seated at his desk again.
    I had reached for the books so I could go shelve them when footsteps sounded. I looked up to see Logan walking toward me.
    My heart lifted at the sight of him. I hadn’t seen much of Logan these last few days, since he’d been spending a lot of time with Nickamedes, making sure the librarian was resting and taking it easy like Metis had ordered him to. I also hadn’t had any more nightmares about Logan stabbing me. Our time together on the mountain had at least put those fears to rest.
    My eyes traced over Logan’s face. His chiseled features looked as handsome as ever, but something seemed . . . different about him. Maybe it was the square set of his shoulders or the way his gaze fixed firmly on my face instead of skittering away as it had so often on the mountain. He just seemed . . . better.
    Logan stopped in front of the counter and tucked his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans.
    “Hi,” he said in a soft voice.
    “Hi.”
    He stared at me, and I looked right back at him, wondering if this was the last time I’d ever see him. But after a few seconds, I couldn’t stand the silence anymore—or the way my heart clenched with dread at the thought of him leaving again.
    “Come to say good-bye?” I asked, wanting him to just say the word and go. At least that way, I could hurry off into the stacks where no one but Alexei and Aiko would see me cry.
    Logan shook his head. “No, not to say good-bye—to apologize.”
    I frowned. “Apologize for what?”
    He looked at me, his blue eyes serious. “For running away, just like you said.”
    This time, I shook my head. “I didn’t mean that. Not really. I know you needed some time to think about things. I’m the one who should be apologizing. You were the one the Reapers hurt—not me. I was just being a selfish, whiny bitch, back in the cavern. You’re the strongest, bravest person I know, Logan. What the Reapers did to you was horrible, but you survived it. That’s the only thing that matters. I’m sorry for all of the mean, hurtful things I said to you—sorrier than you will ever know.”
    Over the past few days, I’d had a lot of time to think about me, Logan, and what the Reapers had done to him. Yeah, I was still hurt and angry, but I’d also realized that part of me was jealous of Logan—and the fact that he could walk away from the Reapers and everything else when I couldn’t. But being in danger, being a target, being hurt over and over again, was part of being a Champion—part of being Nike’s Champion. And it was something I was just going to have to deal with until the second