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“I know you’re out there,” she calls, her voice both a command and an invitation. “You might as well come out.”

At her words, I take the final step onto the parapet. Amber leans over the edge, staring at something far below. I expect her to straighten and turn to face me, but instead, she just leans further over.

I move to stand beside her and peer over. It’s a long way down, and I have to resist the urge to pull her back from the edge, backto safety. But I know she’s not going to fall, and she’s not going to jump—she’s not a quitter.

Far down below, soldiers are sparring in a courtyard; others are formed into squadrons, going through drills.

“They’re getting ready for war,” she says, straightening and turning to face me. “A war they can’t win.”

“You don’t know that,” I reply, but I suspect she’s right.

From here, I can see the darkness creeping over the land. I know Thanouq has men stationed out there, and they’re falling back daily—or dying.

And Idamnwell know Amber is unaware of the losses. There’s so much they’re keeping hidden from her, and it’s not fair. It’s not right.

I stare at her like a lovesick idiot. In my wildest dreams, I never thought I would come to this. I always took women and then forgot them, carefully selecting only the forgettable ones to avoid complications. But now, here I am, totally ensnared.

She’s so beautiful. I know she doesn’t see herself that way, but there’s a radiance in her eyes that captivates me, a goodness that shines through even her snarky nature and comebacks. She’s essentially the best person I’ve ever met.

I breathe in—she smells so good.

Stepping closer, I inhale her scent. Tonight, she smells of jasmine—warm and sultry—and it ignites something deep within me.

She’s biting her lower lip, drawing my attention to her mouth and the memory of her taste.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I’m scared.”

Everything inside me tightens at her words. I’ve never heard her admit fear before, and the vulnerability shatters the walls I’ve built. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Her eyes widen at that, then a smile—not quite masking the worry—curves her lips. One hand reaches out to touch my cheek, sending fire rushing through my veins.

Her words echo in my mind:I love you.

I doubt they still hold truth. Not after everything she’s found out about me.

“Thank you,” she says softly, “but I don’t think you can.” A growl escapes me, and her smile widens. “That’s the Khaos I know.” Then she trails off, a hesitant silence hanging between us. Maybe she’ll never say those words again. Maybe she’s changed her mind, and she doesn’t love me after all.

In her mind, I betrayed her to my father. But in truth, it was my father I betrayed—and I would do it again without hesitation.

“Tell me what you’re scared of,” I say. It’s what Khendril used to say to me when I was a boy and couldn’t sleep.

For a moment, she doesn’t respond, her gaze drifting away. Then, her shoulders stiffen, the weight of her fear is palpable in the stillness between us.

“I’m scared of myself. I’m scared I’m evil.”

Her words don’t surprise me. “I suppose that’s to be expected, considering who your father is.”

She snorts. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better.” She’s silent for a moment, and then she continues, “All my life, I was told I was going to banish evil. But what if they’re wrong?” She paces the length of the parapet before standing in front of me, her eyes searching mine. “I mean, everyone thinks I’m supposed to destroy my father, but what if I’m really supposed to help him?”

It’s a valid point. I’d probably be worried about the same thing. Hell, Iamworried. My father’s not the man I thought he was. He is not a moral man; what does that make me? But that sort of comment isn’t going to help. “Do you feel evil?” I ask.

She frowns, clearly wrestling with her thoughts. “Not most of the time. I mean, I’m not perfect—”

It’s my turn to snort. I may be obsessed with her, but I’m not blind to her faults. She’s impulsive, belligerent, sarcastic. Obviously, she sees something on my face because her nostrils flare. I suspect if she had a sword in her hand, she’d be jabbing me with it right now.

She stands up taller and sniffs disdainfully. “As I was saying, while I’m not perfect, I don’t actually feel evil. Not most of the time. Except...”