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What do I do? What’s the best course of action? I hate making life-and-death decisions.

I look at Khaosti, and he’s looking back at me, waiting for me to say something. I really, reallyhate that.

What’s for the best? Finally, I say to Zayne, “You have to take Winter and Josh to safety. Can you carry them both?”

His eyes widen a little, but he nods. “I can, but I’m not leaving you. I can keep you safe. I can fight them.”

“There’s a lot. They’re coming. We can’t fight them. We have to run. You take Josh and Winter and then come back for us.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but I beat him to it. “This is an order, not an option. It’s our only chance. Get them to safety.Come back. Tell whoever’s there what’s happening.” Thanouq is a griffin shifter. He could come back with Zayne, if he’s even in Zandar Aurion at the moment. Who knows? All I know is that I can feel the panic rising inside me, and I need to get them out of here—now. “Go.”

I think he’s going to argue some more, but then he gives a sharp nod. A second later, I feel a shiver of magic in the air, and Zayne is gone, his basilisk form standing in his place.

I look at him, and I have a sick feeling. What if they fall off? I really don’t want to think about that. They have to go because the shadowguard are getting nearer. I think all that’s stopping me from seeing them is the hills between us.

“Can you do this?” I ask Winter.

“Of course. I’ll keep Josh safe, I promise.”

She hurries to Zayne’s side and looks up at him. How the hell does she get up on his back? But Khaosti is there. With his good hand, he boosts her up, and then between us, we lift up Josh.

“You have to hold on tight. He’ll go as carefully as he can, won’t you?” The basilisk turns its long neck, looks at me, and gives a slow nod.

“Okay, they’re ready. Go, go.”

I wonder, as he rises off the ground, if I’ll ever see them again. But what else can I do? Winter and Josh can’t fight. Josh lets out a little scream as Zayne spreads his wings. Winter has one arm wrapped around him and is gripping tightly onto one of the crests on Zayne’s neck with the other. Josh grabs hold with both hands, and then they’re lifting off.

As they disappear into the sky, the silence that follows is unbearable. The air presses in, thick with the memory of screams and steel.

We’re not going to make it. The thought cuts through my mind, sharp and cold. It lodges there, a whisper I can’t silence.There are too many. We’re too slow. Zayne won’t get back in time. What if this—right here—is where it ends?

But I push the fear down, shoving it into the darkest corner of my mind. I’ve got no time for doubts. I have to make more decisions. “What do we do? I’m thinking we can both ride Stella. Just go as fast as we can, and hope Zayne gets back to us before the shadowguard catches up.”

“What are the chances of that?”

Not good.“I don’t know.”

I go to Stella and pull her forward, but as I head toward Khaosti, she whinnies and backs up. She won’t have him anywhere near her. So there goes that plan—Khaosti will never keep up if I ride. I tie her reins, so she won’t trip over them, then let her go. I’ve no doubt she’ll follow us.

“Shit, what are we going to do?” But I already know what Ihaveto do.

“Look,” I say to Khaosti, “this is going to come as a bit of a surprise. But after I left the Astral Plane, you know, after your father did whatever he does, I…” I hesitate to say it.

“You shifted,” he says. “I knew you would.”

Of course he did. That was something else he’d failed to share with me as well. That fact that he knew I was a shifter. It would have been good to have a heads-up because apparently only men are shifters—usually. Women are witches. But it seems that I’m both. One of a kind. Khaosti had sensed something, some change in me, the night we’d made love.

I suppose it’s not entirely his fault. I hadn’t actually given him much of a chance to tell me anything. I’d just had my evil way with him and then done a runner.

“Yeah, but I bet you didn’t know what I’d shift into.”

He opens his mouth to no doubt ask, but the time for long drawn-out conversations—or any conversations at all—is past. “You have to ride me. Okay?”

His eyes widen. “Ride…?”

After that first time, I’ve only shifted once—just to see if I could, to prove to myself that it hadn’t all been a figment of my overactive imagination. Now I think—shift. Nothing happens. The truth is, I don’t really know how this works. Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe I’m not a shifter at all, and I did actually hallucinate the whole thing. Or perhaps it’s just performance anxiety—Khaosti is staring at me. Whatever—the headache is getting worse. I need to do something now. Then I feel the magic. A prickle running through me, changing me at the deepest level. There’s no pain, but it’s like my whole being shifts in time and place and I’m something else. Something better.

At least I can still think like me.