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AREK

B right red blood drips from green-blue glass, somehow loud in spite of the noise of Fae readying for war below the castle.

I watched Kyrie, held aloft in the golden dragon’s claws, her red hair a flag behind her.

She never looked back.

A hand touches my shoulder, and I whip around, my sword drawn, an extension of myself.

Morrow throws his hands up, his eyes narrowed on the honed edge of my blade.

“What?” It’s a snarl, and my grip on sanity is feather-light at best.

“Friend, we won’t get her back by looking out that window.”

“She means to sacrifice herself.” My chest heaves, a sob looking for a way out. “I won’t let her. I can’t lose her.”

“Then don’t,” Lara says.

Morrow attempts to angle his body to block her from my view, but she steps around him, casting him a dark look.

“Sola won’t wait for high noon if she has her. She’ll make Kyrie suffer first. Because she defied her.”

“Because she’s her rival.” Lara spits the words out, glaring at me as purple power sizzles off her skin. “Kyrie is what Sola should have been. She’s more capable than any of us can understand.”

I go to her, ignoring Morrow’s attempt at stiff-arming me away, focused only on the mage in front of me. “You’ve seen it.”

An accusation.

A wish.

She bows her head, not answering, and I tip my head back, biting back a scream of frustration.

“I can’t see past this morning. I haven’t been able to.”

“Then why offer this false hope? Why torment me more?”

Lara looks me full in the eyes, her gaze brimming with power. With magic. “Because hope is never false when you have faith. Arek Hrakan, the Sword of Death, you must have faith in your mate, in the Fae woman who would be the Voice of Life.”

I flinch back at the voice that comes from her mouth.

Not hers, not at all.

Nakush, speaking through his chosen.

“Brother. She needs your faith. We all do. The future hinges on your choice.”

I nod once, allowing the words to sink in.

Allowing hope to blossom, a rose-covered vine, whose thorns threaten to bleed the life from me.

“Find the traitor,” Nakush says through Lara. “Trust the betrayer.”

The purple dies in her eyes, returning them to her normal brown, and she staggers.

Morrow seizes her around the waist.

“Where is Caedia?” I rasp.

“I’m here,” she says, stepping out of the shadows. Tears track down her face, staining her skin in dark green rivulets. “I don’t know where he would be, though.” She shakes her head.

I can taste her fear, and I don’t need my mate to know she’s lying.

I stalk towards her, my broadsword clutched so tight that my knuckles whiten on the hilt.

“Tell me where to find him,” I grit out.

She shakes her head, pressing her lips into a thin line.

“You know where he is.”

“I don’t know, not for sure, but if I had to guess, I’d say he’s in your treasure room.”

She stumbles as I push past her, sheathing the sword in one smooth motion.

I break into a run.

Time is never on our side, and I’ve never needed to make it an ally more.