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This one belonging to the one now in possession of the small golden ball.

The shift in energy is a shock to the system. So shadowy, fragmented, and bleak, I can’t help but wonder how I didn’t notice until now.

How could I have possibly missed that level of darkness?

Was I really so shortsighted?

Or is he really that good at hiding his true self?

I steer away from my thoughts and focus on the shiny black boots as they kick hard against my father’s side, effectively flipping him onto his back.

“Were you fool enough to think you’d get away, old man?” a scathing voice says as the blue-eyed boy stands over him, his gaze glittering with malice, the thrill of the kill, as his mouth stretches into a wide, mocking grin.

I watch, stomach rolling, as the boy raises the bloodied dagger high and, without a moment’s hesitation, swings it down hard, plunging the blade straight through my father’s dying heart.

“No!” I shout, unable to hold myself back. I’m overcome with all that I’ve witnessed, all that I’ve lost. “Nonononono!” I whimper, shaking with sobs, with the hollowness of my grief, with my absolute inability to intervene.

More than anything, I want to drop this ball, end the story right here. But I know that I can’t. My father intended for me to see it all, so I honor him by watching it to the end.

As a stream of blood pumps from his chest, my father’s gaze narrows, his face glazed with pain, and he uses his last breath to say, “Are you fool enough to believe you’re holding the real one?”

The blue-eyed boy stands frozen in shock. “What the fuck did you say?” he shouts at my dad. But the answer never comes, and the boy watches, face etched with fury, as my dad exits the world.

A moment later, another boy steps out of the shadows and rushes to my father’s side. His face stricken with grief, he drops to his knees, tries in vain to stop the flow of blood and revive him. Then, realizing it’s too late for any of that, he rises to his feet, staggers backward, and hurls until he’s empty.

My God.

My body folds into itself as I rock back and forth, my mind exploding with all that I’ve seen—all that I know.

Oh my God—what have I done?

Before me, the scene continues, and I can hardly believe what I see.

The blue-eyed boy is sneering, jeering, boasting of all the dreadful things he’ll one day do to me.

My vision grows blurry. My stomach plummets with dread.

The spell is finally broken when the ball drops from my fingers, rolls across the tiled floor, to where it stops just shy of the feet of the same golden-haired, blue-eyed enemy my dad showed to me.

68

I leap to my feet.

Killian has woken, and he’s standing before me.

I reach into my pocket and grab hold of my dagger, but Killian is too quick and too smart, and he immediately clocks the move.

“I have no plans to harm you,” he says. “And I know you don’t want to harm me.” Flashing his palms in surrender, he continues to advance.

“Why—because once I kill, I can never go back?” I repeat the very thing he once said to me when he stopped me from ending the duke.

“Something like that.” Killian nods.

“You lied,” I say.

He stops. Closes his eyes for a beat and blows out a breath. When he opens them again, he says, “Shiv,pleaseat least hear me out.”

He takes a step forward, but when I flash my blade between us, he’s smart enough to stay put.