“What’s going on here?” Dean asked. He took a step into the room instead of out of it.

“What do you think?” Kivrin responded.

“It looks like she wants to leave, and you’re keeping her here.”

“Trust me, I don’t need to force anyone to be in my presence.”

A ringing sound was heard as a blade was drawn from its scabbard. “Release her.”

Kivrin laughed. “You’re threatening me in my own house? At my own party?”

“Just stop it. Both of you,” Cyrene said. “Let me go, Kivrin.”

He grinned and released her. He smoothly rose to his feet and even helped her to her feet. She couldn’t mask the state of her dress or her tousled hair. She knew what she looked like right now. What it looked like they’d been doing before Dean barged in.

“Come on, Cyrene,” Dean said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I was fine. We were just talking.”

Dean arched a disbelieving eyebrow.

She sighed and whipped around to face Kivrin again. “Will you look into the matter for me? Put aside your petty prejudices for me just this once. See if you can find anything else. From what I can tell, there’s discontent in the city, and something is coming. I think this is just the start.”

“Petty,” Kivrin snarled. She saw the anger shoot out of him red-hot, and then he quickly tucked it away. “For you, my dear, I’ll do anything.” He took her hand again and kissed it. “Thank you for keeping me on my toes. It was fun.”

“Only you would think what just happened was fun,” she said, shaking her head.

He winked at her. “I’m not the only one.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” she mumbled.

Then, she stalked across the room toward Dean. He still hadn’t put his sword away, and he kept looking between her and Kivrin, as if it were a riddle he couldn’t solve.

“Cyrene…”

She held her hand up and kept walking. She left Kivrin alone with Dean on her heels. None of this had gone to plan. Kivrin was so blind to Lorian that he wasn’t even looking further. And maybe it was Lorian. That one look on his face, it’d changed things. Or at least, she thought it had.

“Where are you going?” Dean asked.

“I need to find Fallon.”

“You came here with Fallon?”

“We had to go out in pairs, remember?” she spat.

He fell silent at that. It was obvious he was not part of a pair.

But, when Cyrene finally found Fallon, he was deep into the Fae punch. He couldn’t even form coherent sentences. Dean helped her carry him to the front door between them. Dean held most of the weight.

“We need a carriage,” Cyrene told the people at the front. “Kivrin said to put it on his tab.”

“Yes, miss,” the man said, calling for a carriage at once. “Where to?”

“Draco Mountain.”

“Excellent.”

When the carriage arrived, they eased Fallon inside. Cyrene was about to step in, but Dean caught her hand.

“Wait.”

“For what?”

“Send him ahead. You and I need to talk.”

She frowned. “About what?”

“Just stay with me.”

She glanced back at Fallon once in fear. “What if he’s attacked?”

“He’ll be fine. The guards will take care of him.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Stay,” Dean said in a commanding voice.

“All right,” she whispered, “I’ll stay.”

She spoke swiftly to the carriage driver, who assured her over and over that he would go straight to the mountain and get him home. No stops for anything.

Cyrene stood next to Dean as the carriage pulled away. She glanced up at him, wondering what he was going to say. What he’d seen. What he must think of her. Not that any of that mattered. This wasn’t her Dean. Just glimpses of him. But still…she’d stayed.

“What do we need to talk about?” she finally asked impatiently.

“Walk with me.”

He started down the paved drive, and she fell into step next to him. She didn’t even know why she was doing this. Not that she wanted to be back at Kivrin’s party. She begrudgingly admitted to herself that she liked Kivrin. Not in the way that he wanted…if that was even the end game he was playing at or just a diversion for him. But, despite all his shortcomings, there was something genuine buried down deep.

Just like Dean.

“Why did you come here tonight?” he finally asked.

“What does it matter?”

“It matters.”

“I came to speak with Kivrin.”

“And how are you acquainted?”

“We met at the banquet before the first competition,” she told him. “Why were you there?”

“He invited me. Though we have never spoken or met.” He frowned. “Well, until I saw him in that study…with you.”

“I see.”

Dean was silent then. She couldn’t decide if he was trying to rein in his anger or figure out what to say next.

But then, abruptly, he stopped in the middle of the street and pulled her to face him. “Are you two together?”

“What?” she gasped. “Me and Kivrin?”

“You looked…together.”

“No! It’s not like that. He wants it to be, I think. But that is not why I was there.”

“Well, you’re here and dressed like that.” He gestured to her dress that had been provocative before it was torn. “And you were underneath him and…”

“And what?” she demanded.

“I don’t know why, but I don’t like seeing you with him.”

Cyrene froze at that admission.

At the way it’d seemed to burst out of him. As if he couldn’t hold in that statement any longer. As if…a part of him still knew.

“Is that…jealousy?” she whispered.

“No,” he answered at once. “Why would I be jealous?”

She arched an eyebrow. “You tell me.”

“It was just…when I saw him there, I wanted to run him through with my sword. I wanted to take out all my anger on him. I wanted him to feel what I felt at the sight of you lying there.”

“Nothing was happening.”

“But that didn’t even matter. This irrational anger crashed over me, and every instinct in my body screamed to protect you.”

“I didn’t need protection.”

He shook his head and glanced away. “I don’t know why I feel this way. I don’t know why I feel this way around you.”

“How do you feel?”

His eyes found hers once more in the dim lighting on the empty street. “I feel when I’m with you. Only when I’m with you.”

Cyrene sucked in a breath.

She opened her mouth to speak, but then the world fell into chaos.

A net dropped over Cyrene’s head. She shrieked and then fell to her knees. She reached for her magic, but a jolt struck her. It was like ten thousand volts of electricity powering through her all at once. It was like holding a lightning bolt in her hand without any control. She couldn’t touch her powers. She couldn’t hope of thinking beyond the next second.

All that was there was pain. She could distantly hear screams and realized somehow that it was her. Enduring this. Feeling this. Dying.

She didn’t know how long it went on, but then, abruptly, the net was yanked off of her head. She seized once more and then lay still, panting on the pavement. All that was before her was Dean, coursing with blue electricity. He was controlling the current of the net and wielding it like a weapon.

She tried to sit up, to grasp her magic, to get back into the fight. But it was impossible. She had no strength in her. The volts had sapped her of the energy to use her powers. But she had to. She had to help Dean.

Deep down she dived, clearing away the pain that her mind kept signaling. She was alive. Her mind needed to stop responding to the pain. She needed to use her heart. To reach out and take control.

Then, with a push, she was suddenly out of her body.

Cyrene gasped in shock. She’d done it. She’d done it all on her own. Without the dragons or Avoca as a tether. She was here now. Of all times for her to accomplish this.

She took stock of the situation. Dean was handling it, but there were too many assassins. She needed to help. But how to help from here?

With a sigh, she reached for her spirit magic that her spiritual form held at the ready. It was there effortlessly. Perhaps her blast power was a perversion of the way she should use her spiritual powers, but it worked. She unleashed on the masked attackers. A burst of energy hit them square in the chests, and they fell back like dominoes. She felt drained from the use in this form but not empty. There were only two more…enough for Dean to handle.

She closed her eyes, ready to head back to her body and give in to the pain once more. She took a step forward. Her hand touched a barrier. A magical barrier. It was thick and viscous, and as soon as her hand brushed against the wall, it seemed to suck her in.

She glanced back at Dean once and followed through the barrier and across the divide. As soon as she was through, she knew she was there. Finally…she was in a place to talk to Serafina. Finally, she could have answers.

Cyrene closed her eyes, remembering what Serafina had said so long ago. She needed to imagine a place, and it would come to her. She took a deep breath and then opened her eyes.

Before her was the Nit Decus castle in Byern. As much as she was angry with what had happened here and with Kael and the whole Dremylon line, Byern would always be home. It nearly made her weep with awe at seeing it again after so long.

Now that she was here, she actually felt solid and not at all like her spiritual form back in Alandria. Perhaps it was because this form in the spiritual plane was as solid as what she had created around her.

Cyrene called for Serafina then. She could draw Sera to her as long as she was in a stable place. And Byern was as stable as Cyrene could get. She knew nowhere as well as she did her home.

Then, in a flash, Serafina appeared. Not whole, as she usually was, but thin, as if Cyrene were seeing her through a veil.

“Cyrene, you did it!” Serafina cried. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I always knew you could.”

“Yes, I’m here. I’m still getting used to it. This is my first time across the divide. I already feel drained, so we need to make this quick. I’ve found the dragons. I should have my own in a week’s time—I hope. Then, I’m going to return to Byern and end this once and for all, Sera.”

“You don’t have a dragon yet?” Sera asked, her voice just above a whisper.

“Not yet.”

Sera nervously glanced around. “The darkness is growing, Cyrene. She is gaining power every day. You need to return as soon as possible. She’s wickedly powerful in the spiritual realm, and I can sense her presence, even as we speak.”

“Who…who is she?”

“That’s a long story,” Serafina said. “But what you need to know is that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Cyrene asked.

“Lying to you.”

Cyrene’s eyes widened. “What? What do you mean? What did you lie about?”

“I didn’t think you were ready for the whole story, and now, I’ve been holding it in for so long…forever. I don’t even know how to say it.”

Cyrene could feel the world slipping away from her. The castle was vanishing. The ground beneath her feet was turning into clouds. Her connection with Serafina was weakening.

“Say it,” Cyrene commanded.

“Viktor never killed me,” Serafina whispered. “I was the first consort. I did it to save my Anne. I thought my love for him would be enough. But it wasn’t.”

“You…you worked for him?” Cyrene gasped.

“I didn’t know he would take it as far as he did. I didn’t know that he had help.” She choked on her words. “When he discovered Anne, he went to kill her. To slay an innocent child because she was not his. She was proof that I hadn’t always just loved him. But my closest friend had been holed up with Anne. She sacrificed her own child to keep mine safe.”

“Creator,” Cyrene whispered.

“That was the day I could take it no more. All the senseless death was for nothing. I used my last remaining energy to put up a barrier around Byern to keep those with magic out.” She gasped through her tears. “I thought it would be a deterrent. Not a way for Viktor to find the last of us and slaughter everyone. To slaughter for generations to come.”

“You put up the barrier,” Cyrene said in disbelief. “You helped him kill our people, and only when your own daughter was in danger did you turn against him. And you screwed that up, too.”

“I know. I know what you must think of me.”

“No. You can’t possibly imagine,” Cyrene said.

And then the connection broke.