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WES

N othing killed me more than watching the love in her eyes crumble into dust. To hear her gaze scream disappointment in who I was and the choice I was about to make.

I tried to keep hold of her hand, but she recoiled, snatching it away from me. And the wrinkling of her nose and lines of tension bracketing the frown on her lips caused me to pause.

“What?” she uttered in disbelief.

I breathed in deeply, steeling myself for what I knew I had to do.

My mother was right. I saw the small coffins of hundreds of children.

Offered condolences to too many widows, too many mothers, too many of my people suffering, all because I was struggling to act like the leader they needed from me.

To act like a man that could make the hard choices.

I murdered my father because it was what was best for me —and I would do it again if needed to save Mara—but that choice was not what was best for the people of my region. And my people were dying .

My brother died because of my selfishness.

And I swore I would become a better man—a better leader —the day Mara gave me every part of herself.

Did sacrificing more lives—my entire region —to a fate worse than death equate to that?

Could I allow my fear of losing Mara’s love push me into sacrificing the lives of hundreds of thousands of others?

Blowing out a long breath through my nose, I squared my shoulders and faced her. “I can’t sacrifice the rest of the North for Telvia, Mara. I’m sorry.”

She narrowed her eyes, jaw tensing as she curled her fists. “You can’t do this…”

“I can, and I will,” I declared, feeling a part of myself hardening into stone once more.

“No.” The determined look on her face, the authoritative tone of her voice—it was like the crashing wave of a hurricane slamming into my castle walls.

“Mara,” I began, reaching for her. I had to make her understand. “Let me explain—”

“Don’t touch me,” she spat out, standing up from her seat.

“Mara, please…” I tried, not giving a fuck about my pride or the fact that my promised was looking at me like I was a disease.

Cancer.

Plague.

Her eyes reviled me. Screeched that I was a disappointment, that I’d failed her. She shook her head. “I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you would do this—”

“Mara—”

“Don’t!” she shouted, backing away. “I can’t believe what you’re choosing to become ,” she shrieked the last word at me.

And I didn’t need her to explain. It was all in her eyes.

Those beautiful, boundless eyes that sang and cried and yelled and screamed what a disappointment I was.

That I was him —my sire—the man who had hurt her and abused her and dared to lay a fucking finger on her .

Him.

My father.

She saw me as no better than him.

And that accusation stung more than salt in an open wound, than alcohol dumped straight into a bleeding heart.

She ran for the door.

Fuck. “Mara!” I stood from my chair, but she was out of the room before I could grab her. And then I was facing him.

Javier came before me and shoved me back.

“Whoa!” someone yelled behind me as I staggered back into the table. And then I was fucking pissed.

He stood before me, blocking the door with a scowl that rivaled my own. “If you even think about pursuing my cousin, Senor Presidente, I promise you’ll regret it.

I pumped both my hands, ready for the fight. “Get out of the fucking way, de la Puente. Nobody—and I mean absolutely fucking nobody —is going to keep me from her.”

His obsidian eyes spoke to me. Bring it on , they said. But his words presented a greater challenge. “Just like your dad, right? You just take out whatever keeps you from what you want.”

I froze.

My core a solid block of ice.

Every muscle fused to the bone.

Rigid. As. Stone.

Javier pointed to everyone behind me. “None of them talk about it, and none of your men do either. But secrets have a way of making themselves known, Calvernon. Susurran en la noche…they whisper at night.” He placed a hand over his heart, giving a mocking bow.

“Don’t misunderstand me, I’m glad you killed him.

I’m glad you took out that son of a bitch because of what he did to her.

” He straightened, his hand falling to his side once more. “But you’re making a mistake now. ”

He shifted his gaze to those behind me. “You’re all making a monumental mistake. Mara’s right. You’re not leading us into a better future”—his eyes fell back on me—“you’re leading us straight into another version of the same hell.”

Backstepping, he declared, “I’m done.” He lifted both his hands and extended his middle fingers. “Go to hell...all of you.” Then he spun around, threw open the door, and slammed it shut behind him. Frames rattled on the walls from the force.

I stared at the door, his words a tidal wave within me. Was I really becoming my father? Was I doing the right thing?

A hand landed on my shoulder. “You’re making the right choice,” my mother said, echoing my thoughts.

“Her judgment is clouded with grief, and she is lucky not to share your same burden, my darling…the responsibility of thousands. One day, she will help you carry it, but for now…” she paused, rubbing her lips together as pity whispered in her gaze.

“Your duty is to your people, Wes. You can’t abandon them now.

” My gaze fell to the floor in front of me, my shoulders laden with the weight of the choice I had to face.

I looked over my shoulder. “Is there really no other way?”

“I’m afraid not,” Sasha said.

“For what it’s worth,” Giza cleared his throat. “I think this is a mistake. I don’t have another option, but I don’t believe the city is a loss…not yet.”

Krous faced me, his eyes communicating sincerity.

“You trusted me to assist you, Mr. President, and I sacrificed everything to help you to take the North from your father. I did so because I believed your father’s choices were wrong for our faction, and you would do something greater.

” He stood up straight, placing his hands behind his back.

“And now I find myself praying that I made the right choice. I fear that failure to act now will condemn the entire UFA, sir. And I implore you to do what must be done.”

I clenched my jaw. “Nora? Are there any other options that you see? ”

Silence.

But she didn’t have to speak for me to know. Her eyes told me everything—sang the awful truth. And when she opened her mouth, she only confirmed my worst fears.

“I don’t have another option,” she began, desperation tainting her voice as it shook, giving her away. “But I’m sure we can find another way—”

“We’re losing time,” Sasha slashed through Nora’s words like a wicked blade. “What will it be? What does the North decide?”

I looked at my mother, and for the first time in a long time, I saw the tense lines of sorrow echoing across the plains of her beautiful face.

“I’m sorry, Wes. You saw those small graves just as I did.

As much as I hate sacrificing the city…” She shook her head, eyes filled with grief.

“We have a duty to the North, my darling. You know where I stand.” She took her hand off my shoulder, stepping back away from me.

I turned around to face them, all five of them standing, waiting for my decision. It was a choice that would subject thousands of people—men, women, and children—to face my brother’s fate. And once again, it would be my fault, my actions condemning them all to burn alive.

Hate curled into my soul. Crushed my supple rose petals into broken bits of dust. And I would hate myself for the rest of my life because of the person I had become—my father.

With a heavy heart, I finally uttered, “ Do it.”

***

MARA

“Fuck!” Javier shouted, kicking the wingback chair by the hearth before spearing his fingers through his hair. “Esto no puede ser. ?Esto no puede pasar!” He paced in front of me, agitated… fuming .

I said nothing, hugging myself as I sat in the other chair, watching him walk back and forth in the library.

“Don’t you see the problem with this, prima?” Halting abruptly, he stared at me. “?No lo ves? Can’t you see it?”

I worried my lip. I did see it. I saw it all.

Telvia was filled with people, good people.

People who didn’t know any better. People like me—individuals who had no idea what was really beyond the wall.

Individuals who were innocent. Most of them had been retrofitted to begin with, no longer in control of their own minds.

How was it fair to condemn them to death?

They didn’t deserve to die. They deserved to live .

It wasn’t their fault that they had been born in Telvia. It wasn’t their fault that their president was the man that he was.

And that was another thing…

Raúl de la Puente—my father—was a murderer. He usurped two regions by force and slaughtered anyone who stood in his way. He stole me from my mother, allowed my stepmother to abuse me, and had oppressed thousands of people over the years to maintain power and control.

He burned Chase alive in the arena.

He retrofitted Jacob and then killed him at REG Command.

And now he sought to modify every individual in the UFA until he controlled them all.

Raúl was bad, I saw that. He was evil and conniving and awful.

Raúl deserved to die.

But Raúl de la Puente was my dad.

For better or worse, he was my father—the only parent I truly had.

And once upon a time, he loved me. I remembered that day, the day he gave me the heart necklace.

The day when everything changed. It was the few memories I had from that period of my life that gave me hope I could win his favor back again, never fully understanding how or why I lost it to begin with.

He hadn’t always been so dark. He hadn’t always been so evil . And after speaking with my mother, I now knew it to be more than just a silly hope. Raúl de la Puente was a good man once. If he had been good once before, perhaps he could be good again.

Javier was right.

There had to be a better way.

“?Prima?”

I blinked, returning my attention to my cousin, who was now standing before me, looking at me with a pained expression. “Yes?”

“We have to do something.” Javi placed his hands on my shoulders. “We can’t begin a new world by making the same mistakes as the last one. You were right. Doing so would only be repeating history, walking down a tired road. We have to do something.”

I took in a breath, feeling my lungs clamping down even as I tried stretching them out.

“óyeme…listen to me. Once upon a time, the Dissenters wanted to see me dead because of Tío. Because my last name was de la Puente . Y amor me salvó…love saved me.”

“Liddy.” It wasn’t a question. I knew enough of their story at this point that I was able to piece together the rest.

He nodded. “I’m alive today because she didn’t follow orders blindly. She gave me a chance. Love gave me a chance.”

I swallowed, his hands feeling heavier on my shoulders.

“We cannot allow the new world to begin with acts of vengeance, primita. It has to be love. Love and mercy and compassion. It has to begin right now, with how we handle this moment. We have to choose love ,” he emphasized, squeezing my shoulders.

I shivered, feeling the heaviness of this moment—the weight of the choices we were about to make. “We have to finish it,” I said, echoing my brother’s final words to me.

“Sí, prima,” he acknowledged, nodding his head. “We finish it…but we finish it the right way.” His obsidian eyes bore into mine, glistening and glimmering with the reflection of the lights in the library.

The seconds ticked, and yet, time stood still.

Javier was right. I had to finish it… “The right way,” I said, echoing him.

He smirked. “Es tiempo para volar, prima.”

I smiled, translating his words for him. “It’s time to fly.”