“Are you all right?” Dean held his hand out to help Cyrene to her feet.

“I’ve been better.”

In fact, her head was fuzzy and felt as if she was about to topple over at any second. But they had a dozen steps left to go, and she had to finish the competition.

“We’ll go together.”

“We can’t. It’s only wide enough for one person.”

Dean frowned. “Okay. You go first, and I’ll stand behind you to make sure you don’t fall backward. We can go as slow as you need.”

“Are you sure? You don’t want to just race up to the top of the mountain?”

“I said that we’re doing this together. So, we’re doing it together.”

She nodded and took the first step. Having Dean at her back reassured her on the trek. And it was a trek. The further she climbed up, the steeper the trail became. She had to climb the last few stairs, a feat which proved more and more difficult.

She hauled herself up the very last step and rolled across the platform at the top of the mountain. Her breath came out a wheeze, and stars danced in her vision. Creator, she needed to get it together.

Dean made it to the landing, and his face appeared before her a half-dozen times.

“Hi,” she muttered.

“We just have to walk into the cave. We walk inside, and we win,” he said. “You can do it.”

“I…can’t walk,” she said, bringing her hands to her head. “Svatava…”

“I know. She hit you. Okay. Then, I’ll carry you.”

“No,” she groaned as daggers stabbed into her eyes.

Dean didn’t seem to care what she thought. He grabbed her arm, slung it onto his back, and then hoisted her over his shoulder. She cried out as the blood rushed to her already-injured head.

“I’ll be quick.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, and her vision blurred further. Her temples pulsed, and she felt as if she might vomit. But she had to endure it. She couldn’t give up, or all of this would be for nothing.

Dean took three steps before they passed through another barrier. Cyrene gasped. Her heart rate rocketed up. Her hands clenched. She blinked.

Everything disappeared.

She blinked again, and she was standing alone.

Her hand went to her head, but there was no wound. She felt fine. It was as if whatever she’d walked through stripped her of all her ailments. Stripped her of everything. She was no longer in her leathers but in the dress she’d worn to her Presenting. Red and long and flowy. She’d thought it was risqué at the time. Daring. She’d wanted to make an impression.

How young and naive she’d been.

She reached behind her to check for her blade. She was sure this was as much an illusion as the House of Shadows. But her hand moved through the air and met no resistance. No blade. No protection for whatever this was.

With a sigh, she stepped forward, and a large double door appeared before her. She knew this door. It was the main entrance to the Nit Decus castle. She was standing on the inside. Wherever this dream was taking her, it wanted her to leave apparently.

She pulled open the heavy door and walked out to face her homeland. What she saw made her want to throw up. To walk out of this nightmare and never return.

Byern was burning.

Her homeland was on fire. Bathed in flames and smoke and ash.

The stairs to the gardens were covered in blood. She could smell the rust on the breeze and feel the need to draw in the magic from it even more intensely. Feel it in her bones.

And at the bottom of the stairs was Kael Dremylon.

He was resplendent in Dremylon green and gold. A hint of a smile on his lips. His blue-gray eyes looked at her adoringly. He reached his hand up to help her down.

“My love,” he said.

She swallowed. “What’s going on?”

“All we have worked for together has come to fruition. I am yours and you are mine and the world is on their knees at our feet.”

“That’s…no, I never wanted that.”

He frowned and grasped her wrist. “Come along, Cyrene. Drink in the blood of our enemies. Feel the power course through your veins. Bathe in it.”

She shook her head. But she couldn’t stop. There was too much. So much.

It surrounded her.

Commanded her.

Used her will against her.

Then, it filled her, more and more and more. There was so much. Power that was glorious and unquestionable. She couldn’t fill up enough. The pit that had been empty, gnawing and hungry in her core, was finally eating, and it had no intention of stopping.

She knew what this meant.

She had lost.

She had given in to her blood magic.

Surrendered to its sweet, seductive call.

Never again could she resist this. She had done it once, and it had been a miracle. Only the help of her friends and the Ancient Ones in Fen had brought her back from the brink. She was the only one to ever do so. Now, she was giving in again. Becoming something that she had never wanted to be, and she couldn’t stop it.

Kael kissed her hand. “You’re magnificent.”

Tears flowed red down her cheeks.

She burned so bright with energy that she thought she might burst from the inside out. Nothing would ever be right again.

He drew her to him, kissing the trail of blood. Their energies mingled, merged, and magnified. She’d felt this once. But just a taste of what their combined powers could do to the world. Now, she was witnessing it for herself. Death and destruction. Ultimate power.

“Let’s see the world we’ll create on our enemies’ ashes.”

They moved together. Cyrene was hardly in control of her body as she strode down the stairs and out across the gardens. She passed dead bodies. Faces that she recognized and those that she didn’t. She saw Lady Cauthorn, knowing she’d never pay her back that favor now that her corpse lay on the castle grounds.

Rhea’s red hair fanned out behind her. She gasped for breath. Her fingers dug into the soft earth. Kael thrust a flame sword through her chest, and she fell silent. Gone. Her longest friend gone.

They continued through the grounds.

The entrance was open. Pikes had been stuck into the ground with heads spiked to the top as a warning for what they would do to traitors. A promise that they’d root out anyone who opposed them.

Ahlvie, Orden, and Mikel were clearly visible. Their eyes open in shock. Faces sagging and rotting from the length of time they’d been there.

Cyrene swallowed back her terror. She wanted to scream. Scream and cry and fight back. She wanted to do something. But she was linked to Kael. Together, they were stronger than apart…and she felt as if…there was nothing of her left that didn’t belong to him.

They passed the pikes, leaving her guys behind without another glance, and walked over to a scaffold that had been erected. She remembered Daufina had dropped from it. Her legs swinging. Her neck breaking. Her dying before Cyrene’s eyes. The anger she’d felt at Edric that he would do something so insane. The pain of losing someone she had looked up to even if Daufina had tried to turn her in for her magic.

But in Daufina’s place stood Avoca, Matilde, and Vera.

“No,” she managed, her voice strangled.

“Traitors,” Kael called. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Cyrene reached for her bond with Avoca but found nothing. Nothing. There was no bond. The only person she was bound to was Kael.

“You will pay for your sins,” Avoca spat. Her eyes fire.

“You believe yourself to be the highest power in this universe,” Vera said.

“You will realize you are sorely mistaken,” Matilde responded.

He smiled at Cyrene, his face brilliant in the sunlight. He caressed her hair. “What do you say, love? Should we make it quick?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but Kael turned his thumb down, and all three dropped as one.

She screamed. Nothing came out. Her silent screams could only be heard in her head. Kael only laughed. As if he could feel her pain and found it charming.

He took her head in his hands. “You know why we’re doing this. We’re making a new world. Destroying what once was and rising from the ashes to be something better. We can’t do that if we have our past before us.”

“Please, don’t do this.”

“I’m not doing it,” he said, gesturing her forward. “You are.”

Dean stood on the scaffold. His eyes met hers. He opened his mouth to say something to her, and Kael snapped his fingers. His lips were sewn shut in a gruesome display.

Kael dragged her forward. No, she couldn’t watch. She couldn’t let this happen. Not Dean. Not her friends. Not all of them. This wasn’t what she wanted. This wasn’t how the prophecy was supposed to work. She was supposed to triumph over evil, not become evil.

Her feet were on the wood before Dean. A blade was in her hand. Kael yanked on Dean’s hair, tugging his head back and exposing his throat.

“Do it,” he spat. “Finish this.”

She stared at Dean. Her hand moved toward him. She was going to kill him. Creator, she was actually going to do it. She couldn’t even control herself.

She had lost.

Evil had won.

Her friends were all dead.

Her heart was shattered.

In the end, she hadn’t been enough to save everyone.

She thrust forward.

The blade sank into Kael’s chest.

Pure Tendrille shone in her hand, glittering with the power of her magic coursing through her. Cutting clean through Kael. Blood gurgled up out of his mouth.

“Why?” he gasped.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, tears falling freely again. “This wasn’t what I wanted either.”

He fell down, dead, and Cyrene sank to her knees. She rocked back and forth. Back and forth. This wasn’t how it ended. This wasn’t it. She wouldn’t let it happen. She’d save everyone. She could.

“Cyrene.”

She looked up at Dean, still on his knees before her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t save everyone.”

“You saved me.”

She started crying harder, imagining a life without all of her friends. Imagining what it would be like to live in a world like this. It broke her heart. It was her worst nightmare.

She hauled the sword from Kael’s chest and shakily rose to her feet. She knew what she had to do.

“I’m a threat. I have blood magic.” She flipped the blade and passed it to him. “You’ll have to kill me to protect the world.”

“Cyrene…I can’t.”

“Do it!” she shouted. “I’ll kill everyone. I’ll ruin everything.”

“Please.” Unshed tears danced in his eyes.

“It’s the only way.” She touched his face. “It’s okay. I’m here.” She closed her eyes and held her arms out. “Now.”

She felt the pierce of the blade. The push of it crushing her heart. The last breath in her final selfless act. And she smiled. At least she wouldn’t kill again.