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Engineering a slingshot to fling herself across the Boundary in a short enough time that the night stone Abby smuggled out of lockup would protect her from the Shadow People? Piece of cake.

Magically fusing the now-defunct blood crystals with the charred remains of the journeybook Bellamy destroyed, in the vain hopes of contacting Abby Griffin back in Aydindril so that maybe she can talk Clarke through a procedure that hopefully won’t kill him? That one’s a little trickier.

Especially when she can’t look at Clarke without feeling, like, draconic levels of rage. She did something to Finn, something that Raven can’t figure out. It’s not just about infidelity—that part hurts enough on its own—but something deeper, something really, seriously wrong.

Ten days isn’t enough to justify the way he glances around to find Clarke before making any kind of decision—or the look of utter, complete devotion he has on his face when he does it. It’s not enough time to drain all the passion from his kisses, to erase the affection in his eyes that always used to be there when he would look at her.

Finn has always been everything to Raven—her rock, her safe place, all the cliches. He was her best friend as a child, and that relationship just seemed to naturally evolve as they got older. They fit—or at least, they used to, before…well, everything.

Only problem is he’s been her missing piece for so long—sharing his rations, stealing little bits and pieces of magical artifacts for her to mess around with—that she doesn’t know what her life looks like without him. Doesn’t know if she can survive losing him.

But has she lost him already?