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“Fine.”

Though deep down, something tells me she won’t.

The distant roar of the battle grows louder as we slink closer to town. We edge around the southern perimeter, weaving in and out of buildings at an achingly slow pace. A thick layer of sweat accumulates between Marge’s bag and my back.

I peek from around the corner of a building, through an alley dumping into the center square of Blackfell. In the distance, athrong of people ebb and flow in a dark sea of war. But what catches my attention is the several groups of people sitting eerily still between me and the battle. I swallow hard—one of them writhes on the ground.

I hold out a hand to Daeja. “Stay.”

Inching closer, I press my side to the alley wall, meshing my silhouette into the shadows. As I get near the end of the alley, I realize the man on the ground wriggling has his mouth gagged, his hands and feet tied. He thrashes to free himself, and someone appears dressed in black, their back to me. The shadowy figure kicks the hostage until he stills, the rest of the hostages watching with wide eyes. Their captor drops into a crouch and wraps the rope tighter around the motionless hostage’s arms and legs.

A rebel.

“They’re tied up, we have to free them.”

But everyone else is preoccupied with keeping the fighting rebels at bay. The lone rebel dressed in black paces by the group of tied and gagged civilians, watching them intently.

I creep closer. “Daeja, I have a plan.”

“Psstt,” I call.

The rebel whips toward me. I wave, trying to snag his attention to the alleyway. His gaze narrows in on me, and he charges. Turning, I race back down the alley toward Daeja hidden around a corner, the man’s heavy footsteps echoing behind me like thunder. I can’t pump my arms and legs fast enough. He catches up to me within a few strides and snatches the back of my neck and hair, ripping me toward him.

Daeja slinks out from the hidden corner and bolts forward, reaching behind me, she snaps the man’s head into her jaws. His grasp disappears from me as she rips his head free from his body and tosses it far off into the shadowed alley. His body slumps to his knees before collapsing forward. My heart races as I pat myneck and chest. I scan the man’s decapitated body, cringing at the mess of fluids and flesh strewn about the ground. Clenched in his hand is the chain of Cole’s necklace. I pry his rigid fingers open with trembling hands.

The clasp of the necklace is broken, so I pocket the chain and suck in a shaky breath as I slide the metal ring down my finger. I had always imagined wearing it—but never like this. Never in a reality where Cole could die at any second. A chill and calmness spreads through me as if it were ice singing in my veins. It floods me until my body buzzes with energy.

“He’ll be okay,”Daeja whispers in my mind.

I glance at her with a hesitant smile, and I am grateful for her grounding and comforting influence. Perhaps I would never be as skillful at daggers like Archie. Strong in hand-to-hand combat like Cole. Or the best swordsman like Darian.

But I have a fucking dragon. And that makes me feel powerful. It makes me feel a little bit…

Unstoppable.

I race back down the alley toward the group of hostages, unsheathing my dagger from my thigh and dropping to my knees near the one that was kicked still by the rebel. I scan the square around us, nervous another rebel may emerge from the shadows. “Daeja, watch my back. Let me know if someone is coming.”

“Got it.”

Sawing my dagger through the rope binding the man’s wrists, I fling the cords to the side as the man’s eyes blink open.

I pull the gag from his mouth. “Are you alright?”

He nods, eyes still wild with fear. “Yes. Yes, I think so.”

“Is anyone else in your group hurt?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

I hand him my sword. “All of you need to go south to the forest. Be quick. Take this and defend yourselves shouldsomeone follow you. Wait in the forest for me, I won’t be far behind.”

I work quickly, freeing one hostage at a time with my dagger. Each one I release slips away from the town square. Freeing the last civilian, I glance over to the alley where Daeja lies in wait, reflections glimmering in her pupils as she surveys the surroundings.

I stand, taking a few steps into her direction when a scream pierces through the chaos, chilling my blood.

I follow the sound and find Archie sinking against the wall of a stone building, his mouth open wide in a cry and hand cradling his arm. A rebel creeps closer to Archie, wielding an axe dripping dark red…

Blood.