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Only the shadowguard are left. I hear her softly spoken words on the silent air.

“Through veils of darkness, spirits rend, shadows of Hell, to me ascend.”

I see them become corporeal as she calls them from Hell. And then she kills every last one of them.

Only one other figure remains standing—a woman on a rocky outcrop above the battleground. The sorceress, I presume. Her hand is raised and aimed toward Zayne and Thanouq, and her lips are moving. Amber points the sword toward her. The woman swings her hand to counter the attack, but Amber whispers another spell, and the sorceress goes up in a pyre of flame.

Amber remains still, her eyes wide, the sword raised. I close the distance between us and rest a hand on her shoulder. For a second, she freezes, and I wait for her to blast me into nothingness. I’m not quite sure she’s completely with us. A tremor runs through her, then she lowers her arm, and the sword drops to the ground.

I turn her toward me and wrap my arms around her, pulling her close against my body. For a few seconds, she relaxes into me, and I hold her tight. I would give her my strength. My life. My everything. I don’t think she realizes that.

Finally, she takes a deep breath and steps back. I let her go.

She turns to face the city. A small army is galloping toward us, with Hecate on her gray mare at their head, Therion close behind.

“Well,” Amber murmurs. “I unlocked my magic. Do you think she’s going to be pleased with the results?” Her tone is blank, as her gaze wanders over the carnage she caused. She’s fucking magnificent. But I suspect she’s also in shock.

At that moment, Zayne limps up and stops in front of us. “Fuck, Amber,” he mutters, staring at the bodies closest to us and then at the still smoldering sorceress. “I mean what the total fuck? What were you thinking?”

A frown flickers across her face, and she gives herself a little shake as if coming out of a trance. “I was thinking they were going to kill you,” she replies. “What? I should have just let them do it? Maybe I should have just stayed at home and let you both die.” She sniffs. “That’s gratitude for you.”

“You have my eternal gratitude,” Thanouq says. “My life is now yours.”

A low growl rumbles in my throat. Smarmy bastard. “She doesn’t want your life.”

“It is hers nevertheless.”

“Are you okay?” Amber asks Zayne. He has a nasty wound on his leg that’s oozing blood. She steps closer and he steps back with a wary expression on his face. He’s right to be wary. I’ve never seen power like hers. It’s fucking frightening and amazing.

“For God’s sake let me take a look at it,” she snaps. “I’m not going to blast you.” She narrows her eyes. “Unless you really piss me off.”

She crouches down beside him and reaches out and gently touches his leg. He flinches, but I don’t think it’s from pain. Amber whispers some words under her breath and straightens. “There. Good as new.”

Zayne swallows and blinks a couple of times before glancing down. The wound is healed. “Shit,” he mutters.

“A thank you would be nice.”

But he just shakes his head. Amber sighs and turns to Thanouq. “What about you?” she asks.

“I’m fine. Just a few scratches.”

She nods and turns to watch as Hecate dismounts and hands her horse to one of the soldiers. She heads over, never taking her gaze from Amber, until she comes to a halt in front of us. Then her head turns to take in the full decimation of the battlefield.

“What happened?”

Amber shrugs. “I nearly died.” She presses her lips together. “More to the point, I nearly let everyone else die. The goddess came to me—”

Gasps run through the listening soldiers who have drawn close.

“Selene?” Hecate says and there’s something in her voice, jealousy maybe. She’s wanted Amber to come into her power but seems to feel a little…sidelined.

Amber frowns. “Is there another goddess no one has told me about?” When no one answers, she continues. “She showed me my choices and told me it was my decision to take. I chose this.” She sweeps her arm around over the piles of the dead. “The alternative…” She shakes her head.

“Did you have to kill them all?” Zayne asks. “And the woman? She wasn’t even armed.”

And I want to punch him. Can he not see the pain in her eyes? The guilt. She did what she had to do, no doubt partly to save his worthless life.

“Yes,” I answer for her. “There were too many. She made the decision—them or you. And the woman was a sorceress who was stopping you from shifting. Now shut the fuck up.”