He'd done so by the time I'd dressed, and one look at his expression told me everything I needed to know. I swore and thrust a hand through my damp hair. "Now what are we going to do?"
"There is nothing we can do—not until he regains his flesh form."
"And if he doesn't?"
He studied me for a moment, expression giving little away. "If he doesn't, you have a choice to make."
I stared at him, my stomach suddenly twisting itself into knots. "No."
"There may be no choice," he said, voice even but somehow relentless. "If the elemental has won the war, then Tao is already lost to you."
"No!" I clenched my fists against the anger—the useless, sick anger that was fueled part by fear and part by the knowledge that he was right—and added, "I will not give up on him."
While there was life, there was always hope.
Besides, I'd promised Tao I would do all that I could to help him win. Giving up at the first major hurdle was not doing that.
"Risa—"
I made a chopping motion with my hand. "I don't want to hear it, Azriel. I don't care what you say. I don't care what fate plans. I don't care about being sensible. I will not give up on my friend. Okay?"
He studied me for several seconds, then crossed his arms and turned back to the window. Every inch of his muscular back seemed to radiate displeasure.
"Okay."
"Glad we agree," I muttered. I grabbed my phone, then stalked out to the kitchen.
I wasn't feeling particularly hungry, but I wasn't about to fall into the trap of not eating. Not when I actually felt reasonably healthy for the first time in ages.