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“Don’t kill him!” she barks. “We still need him!”

Maybe he hears her, maybe he doesn’t. Either way, he doesn’t loosen his grip. The edges of my vision blur, darken. My hands claw at his arms, weak and useless. I don’t want to die, but the fight in me ebbs as the darkness spreads.

I survived Canning’s streets. I survived OCU training. I even survived Rowan and The Snake. Tears spill out of my eyes, down my cheeks and onto the man’s hands as he continues to squeeze, and Anders continues to scream.

I almost had happiness. I almost had him.

This can’t be it. It can’t be the end.

But it is.

***

The next part is a dream, or maybe it’s real. I don’t know. The world blurs, sound fading into a muffled hum. Somewhere, far away, a gunshot rips through the air, so loud I’m convinced the entirety of Senna hears it. Something heavy slams into me—a dead weight that smells of sweat, greasy food and cheap aftershave. I’m pinned beneath it, suffocating. Shouts erupt around me, commands barked in clipped tones.

Warmth spreads across my chest, sticky and metallic smelling. Blood. But whose? Another shot cracks, followed by a strangled cry for mercy. Then silence.

The weight is lifted, and I gasp weakly, lungs struggling to remember how to breathe. A familiar scent—spiced and clean—fills the air.

“Alex?” The voice is unmistakable, thick with fear. “Alex, it’s me. Can you hear me? Shit, Alex. You have to get up.”

Rowan.

He came.

He found me.

But I’m slipping too far, too fast. I try to open my eyes, to let him know I’m still here, but the darkness pulls harder than my desire to wake up.

“Alex!” His voice breaks on my name, desperate. “Stay with me. Please stay with me.”

I want to, but I can’t.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Rowan

No, please,” I whisper. “Lexie. No. You have to wake up. Please. Please don’t leave me.”

He doesn’t listen. He doesn’t wake up.

The room around me spins. Tears I have not shed in a long time flood my eyes all at once. Sharp, crushing pain sears my body. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this. I don’t think I’ve ever been this terrified.

Alex lies on the floor, his face pale and his lips an awful blue. It reminds me of that girl in Summit and the thought makes me want to vomit.

“Lexie. Please, baby. You can’t go. You can’t leave now.”

He still doesn’t wake up. His body heavy and completely slack and all I can let myself think is that he can’t be dead. He can’t be gone. Not when I’ve just gotten him back.

“Rowan?” I think I hear Xander’s voice come up behind me.

I’m kneeling on the dirty carpet, Alex still in my arms and he’s not breathing. He’s not breathing. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“You have to wake up,” I hear myself say again, but it doesn’t feel like I’m in my own body anymore. It’s like I’m watching a different Rowan from above, shaking Alex violently.

Xander kneels next to me, reaching for Alex’s neck with two fingers. “There’s a pulse,” I hear him say. “He’s alive. Rowan, he’s alive. We need to go.”

But I don’t believe him. Xander would happily let Alex die and tell me he’s alive instead. I know he would.

Alex looks—dead. His lips have turned blue, his neck is bruised and there is bloodied rope burn on his wrists.