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The last time this happened, Rowlen came to save her, came to pull her out.

Rowlen, she cried out for him.

But he wouldn’t come this time. Because she’d left him there—left him to die.

She pounded her fist into the dirt and screamed again. Screamed for Rowlen, screamed for herself.

And her shrieks grew louder as Kaine’s ghost burst through the flames and grabbed her by the throat. His fist raised, then slammed down into her back.

She fell forward onto her hands. Each phantom collision of Kaine’s made the fire rage hotter with explosions like a dying star.

She couldn’t snap out of it.

She felt everything as if Kaine were there.

Help me.Please. Rowlen. Somebody. Help me!

Smoke and shadow wrapped around her. And what once was an empty space between her and her white flames now appeared a tall figure in black clothing. Waving wisps of silver hair rustled around worried, colorless eyes. Garrik’s ringed hands reached out, and he dropped to his knees with her.

“Open your eyes!” Icy hands pulled her face from the dirt and molded to her burning, wet cheeks. Fire and glimmering sparks licked at his skin, but he held strong. “You need to open your eyes!”

His shouts were nothing but a whisper in the depths of her mind.

She was trapped. Trapped in Kaine’s bed, letting him do what he wanted to her. Distant screams from outside her bedroom door rocked the surrounding walls. She began to see darkness as Kaine’s hand squeezed her throat.

Life faded from her eyes.

The bedroom door burst into thousands of splinters as tendrils of darkness invaded in a murderous sweep. Kaine’s body became engulfed in tenebrous ash, ripped from her by hundreds of Smokeshadow hands.

His eyes were pierced by tendrils, mouth gaping open as they tugged and carried him out of the open door into the blackened abyss.

Then it was Garrik’s arms lifting her from the bed.

“Open your eyes, Alora. This is not real.” Was that …panicin his voice?

He pushed himself closer to her, inside the flames, until a knee wedged between hers. Magic sent a burst of flames against his arm in warning, but he didn’t flinch. Didn’t leave her. Icy hands cupped her cheeks and leaned closer. “Come back to me.”

The chilled grip on her fevered face sent shivers down her spine, and a white glow kissed her burning eyelids as she opened and saw a wall of Smokeshadows fighting back the inferno.

His lips were moving. She focused on them until there was nothing else but his voice and his eyes and his touch.

“Breathe,” Garrik whispered. His chest rose heavy and fell, lips pale and trembling. “Please, breathe.” He pulled her balled fist up and placed the palm over her racing heart. “Feel thebreath entering your lungs. The kiss of the wind.” The silver of his eyes went muddy. “Hear me. Listen to my voice. You are safe. I am not leaving. Focus on me.” He inhaled deeply like he was showing her what to do. “Listen. Breathe.”

Finally, her lungs extended in a greedy inhale, mirroring his. She felt the pleasant sting of a cold hand softly gripping hers. Then another trailed her burning cheek, thumb swiveling in a gentle circle.

The air felt heavy with ash and dancing flames. Still, Alora breathed, watching his chest draw in its own life, and her fortress of flames began to die.

“See those trees?” Garrik gestured with his eyes. “What kind of trees are they?”

She sucked in a breath, following the path to evergreens above the valley.

“Come on, darling, you know what they are.”

Another deep breath. “Ev—evergreens,” she choked out.

“Good.” He brushed her cheek, and his gaze returned to the dying flames. “And what kingdom are we in?”

Alora closed her eyes and leaned into that frigid touch. “Zyllyryon.”