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“Who is his secret ally?” Lucienne demanded, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand.

“You do know Prince Vladimir had his own connections before he joined forces with you, don’t you?” Kian said. “And consider his uncle’s network. The old duke would be very happy to welcome his heirback, especially after the prince spent the past three years inside the Siren’s tight circle. The intel he has is highly valuable to any party.”

“You think he’ll betray me?”

“He might think you betrayed him.”

“Even so, he’ll not sell me out,” Lucienne said. “I know Vladimir.” She also realized her team trusted him enough to let him go.

“I hope so. If he turns on you, I’ll hunt him to the corners of the earth.”

“I can’t think straight. My mind is like messy threads. Can’t find the beginning. Can’t find the end. Can’t—”

“Then don’t find anything, and don’t worry about the Czech prince for now.” Kian looked around. Two aircrafts from Sphinxes landed not far from them. “The reinforcements have arrived. We need to tend to our wounded.”

“Orlando is gone, so are Cam, Gideon, Matthew . . .” Lucienne said, and her tears came back in full force. “The strike was meant for me. Orlando took it.” She looked at Kian desperately, as if by staring into the eyes of her mentor, she could bring Orlando and others back.

The muscles in Kian’s jaw twisted tightly. For a moment, he couldn’t speak. The grief in his hard sapphire eyes weighed heavier than the war.

“You killed Seraphen, the angel?” he finally said.

“Yes, but he’s no angel.”

“Doesn’t matter. He’s dead. Well done, my Siren.” But the pride in Kian’s eyes didn’t lessen his pain and grief. The wound in his head opened again, blood streaming down the side of his face.

That brought Lucienne’s sense of reality back. She looked him over. He had severe burns across his shoulders, and he’d been wounded from the side of his left thigh to his knee. His ragged pants couldn’t cover the injury. Lucienne had shut everything out once Vladimir left her. How could she be so selfish as to focus only on her own anguish?

She turned and shouted. “Medics!”

A military medic rushed toward Kian and Lucienne with emergency kits in his hands. Two commandos followed him. Ziyi, in her shiny qipao and high heels, sprang after them.

“I’m all right.” Kian waved the medic away. “Look for those who are worse.”

“Nonsense!” Lucienne said. “You’re wounded badly. I don’t want you to lose too much blood or get an infection.”

The medic knelt beside Kian, checking him. “It’s bad, Mr. McQuillen. We’ll need to get you to the surgical room in Sphinxes.”

“Are you kidding me?” Kian glared at the medic.

“Take him now. And ship anyone who needs immediate care to Sphinxes too,” Lucienne ordered. “And I swear on my life, Kian McQuillen, you’ll be the first one on that plane.”

The two commandos supported Kian by his shoulders and carried him to the Snow Eagle, supervised by Lucienne. “You’re no use to me here with an injury like that,” she said. “And, remember, when a warrior is injured in the field, he must stay in bed and listen to his doctor.” She planted a kiss on Kian’s forehead before the soldiers dragged him aboard the plane. “Make no more trouble.”

When the injured had been taken care of, Lucienne turned to Ziyi. The girl had been strangely quiet. “Why did you come, Ziyi? You can’t stand the sight of blood.”

“I wanted to be here for you,” Ziyi said. “I couldn’t stand seeing you . . . broken like that.”

“Why didn’t you warn me an aircraft was coming for Vladimir?” Lucienne asked. Her anger had resided, but the sharp pain stayed. It was like a blunt force tearing away parts of her, and she wondered if this wound would ever heal. “I know Ashburn didn’t block Dragonfly. If you had told me, I could have stopped Vlad from leaving.”

“I’m sorry,” Ziyi choked with a sob. “But he was a train wreck. I’ve never seen him like that. I know it broke your heart, but it won’t help if he stayed.”

“How do you know if it helps or not?” Lucienne hissed. “It’s not for you to decide. It’s not for anyone to decide. It’s for me to decide!”

“I consulted Kian. I told him I wouldn’t tell you about Prince Vladimir’s departure. It’s for the best, for both you and Vladimir. He’ll need space. No matter how many times you break his heart, he’d still come back to you. That’s how in love he is with you. And to be fair, it was his decision. We all saw you and . . .” Ziyi’s eyes darted toward Ashburn, who was watching Lucienne.

Even after the battle, even amid all the wreckage, he still looked incredible and otherworldly beautiful. Ziyi stared at Ashburn in wonder, lost in thoughts and lacking words. When Lucienne tapped the girl’s shoulder to bring her back to reality, Ziyi stuttered, “Don’t be mad at me, Lucia. I can’t bear it. This is the saddest day. So many of our people died.” She moved closer to Lucienne and hugged the regal girl.

Lucienne’s body was stiff, and she tried to shove Ziyi off, but her friend clung to her as if holding on for dear life, until the Siren stopped pushing. Lucienne bent down and buried her face in Ziyi’s purple hair and cried with her friend.