With a gasp, Lyana jolted awake. The hairs on her arms stood. A current lit the air, simmering with power—the devouring might of the rift. The nothingness reached for her, all-encompassing and without end, devoid and barren, trying to pull her under. Heart pounding in her chest, she turned to the balcony just in time to see Rafe land on the stones, his flaming wings bright against the dark night. He pushed through the gauzy curtain with wide eyes and strode into her room. Flicking her fingers, she tamed the fire left in his wake. It was a testament to his panic that he’d let the fabric burn in the first place, his control a tenuous thing.
“It’s happening.”
“It can’t be.” She rose from the bed and rushed to him before putting her hand to his arm to still his trembling. “It’s only been two weeks since the earthquakes began in the House of Wisdom. It’s too soon.”
“I know,” he said, his voice rough. “But it is. Somehow, it’s happening. I can feel the creature waking up. I can feel its mind unfurling. I can feel the others celebrating, the eager glee rushing through their spirits.”
“But the owls, they’ve hardly evacuated. They won’t suspect—” Lyana broke off. A lightning bolt zipped down her chest, shocking her to her core as she realized the true source of Rafe’s fear. Not the end of the world, but the end of one of the few people in this world who mattered to him. “Xander.”
“He’s still there.” Rafe’s voice was small. Fractures spread across his bright blue eyes, as though he were breaking right in front of her. “He’s still there, and I can’t go to him.”
She wanted to tell him to leave, to fly, but the words caught in her throat. All Rafe had ever wanted was to set her free, and now she was the one holding him hostage. He had to stay—the world needed him to stay. She and Malek couldn’t fight those creatures on their own.
“The owls live underground. What if— What if—”
“Stop.” She took him by the hands. “Nothing is going to happen to Xander, do you hear me? I’ll catch the isle. I won’t let it sink into the sea. I’ll give him the time he needs to escape.”
“What if there is no time?” His voice wavered as he turned toward the balcony, his features strained. “They’re excited. I can feel it. And when the light creature hatches, when it’s here—”
“You’ll make time, Rafe. Gather the mages. Prepare them for battle. Sound the alarms. Do whatever you need to do, just give me as much time as you can.” She brought their cupped hands to her lips and kissed his fingers softly. “For Xander, for me, for the world, you’ll find a way.”
He dropped his forehead to hers as a shudder passed through him. “Ana.”
“Don’t,” she whispered, taking a moment to breathe in his presence, to memorize what it felt like to have him so close. “Don’t say goodbye.”
“But—”
“Not like this, Rafe.” She held his gaze across the narrow space between them. “Please, not like this. We’re going to win. You’re going to fight those monsters. I’m going to seal the rift. We’re going to save the world. And after we do, you can come find me and tell me all the things you want to say right now—not because it’s the end, but because it’s the beginning. Our beginning. Can you promise me that?”
He lifted his hand to her face and ran his thumb across her lower lip, the fire in his eyes just as hot as the sparks igniting along her skin. “I promise.”
Lyana shifted her face to the side and kissed his palm. The touch was supposed to be brief, but her mouth lingered, hungry for him. Rafe went still as she peppered a trail of kisses down the center of his hand, only stopping once she met the soft skin of his wrist. His scorching pulse drummed rapidly against her lips, making hers race to meet it. Fire lit his blood and her tongue darted out before she could stop it, stoking the flame. Rafe gasped, a strangled sound. With her tongue still against him, Lyana looked up. Passion filled his hooded gaze, the sort that had always lingered between them, daring her to come closer.
She knew the world was ending.
She knew every second was precious.
But more than anything, she knew she would spend the rest of her life, however long it was, regretting this moment if she didn’t rise on her toes, close the distance between them, and taste him one last time.
They crashed together as though fate itself had provided a little shove. Rafe growled into her mouth and slid his hand behind the back of her neck, pulling her closer. She moved her arms up his chest and dug her fingers into his hair, angling her face to the side to deepen their kiss. Bodies melded from chest to toe, they fit as though made for one another. His skin blazed. The fire along his wings flared. But it didn’t burn her. It stirred something inside her, thawing every hesitation. Warmth pooled in her belly, spreading out along her limbs until she tingled with the heat.
A roar tore across the sky, a reminder of the stakes.
“Go,” she mumbled against his lips, but Rafe wouldn’t. Not yet. His grip tightened as he reclaimed her mouth. The subtle pull on her braids was more pleasure than pain as he arched her neck up and devoured her protests. Lyana melted against him, the heat of his touch burning through her once more, stimulating every inch of her body. His tongue moved with the precision of a blade, and she met him strike for strike, hungry and demanding.
Another roar pierced the heady drug of their passion.
With a cry, Lyana pulled away.
This time, Rafe let her.
“Go,” she whispered, her voice one breath from breaking. Their panting filled the silence as he held her gaze for one more second, time stretching like the final note of a song, lingering even after it was over. She blinked, and he was gone.
Tears stung her eyes, but she willed them away as she ran for the door, ignoring the scorching in her chest, no longer sweet but scathing. Fire burned the back of her throat, worsening every time she tried to draw breath, threatening to break free as a sob. By the time she threw open the door to Malek’s study, her heart seemed lost to the flames.
“I felt it,” he said, not looking up from the papers strewn across his desk. She knew he’d be awake. “But it’s too soon.”
“It’s not.”
At her grave tone, he lifted his head. “What?”
“Rafe felt the beast awaken. It’s time.”
“It can’t be—”
“It is.”
Malek jumped to his feet and raced across the room. She let him pull her to their usual spot and dropped beside him on the floor, her muscles giving out as a helplessness she couldn’t fight took over. They weren’t ready. Not yet. No matter what she’d told Rafe, in this room, with Malek, she stared the truth in the face. How many hours had they sat in this very position, funneling their magic into the rift? They’d made progress, but not enough. It took days to push the rift back what felt like the smallest inch, yet somehow they needed to close it, now, before all was lost.
“Lyana!” Malek snapped. “Focus.”
She was focused. For the first time, she was seeing things clearly. But only on the day when the sky does fall, will be revealed the one who will save you all. The one. Not the two. Not the king and queen. The one.
They were going to fail. Maybe they were always meant to fail. They couldn’t close the rift. They didn’t know how. But in the little time they had left, before the creatures came to claim them, she could still fight to save the world—not its dirt and stones and sea, but its people, their hope the only thing more powerful than magic.
“We need to help the House of Wisdom.”
“There’s no time. We need to go to the rift—”
“No, Malek.” Every wilted bone in her body turned to steel, hardening her back into the weapon she knew she was. Time and time again, she’d done as he’d asked. Now he would bend to her iron will. “I need to save the isle.”
“Land can be replaced—”
“But not lives. Xander is there. He—”
“Isn’t worth the world.”
“He is the world. Don’t you see that, Malek?” Lyana took his hands, letting their magic simmer together as she searched the depths of his slate eyes for a crack, just one glimpse of the man underneath the mantle. “Rafe will need him to keep fighting, to keep going, after we’re gone. And the people will need Rafe to keep their faith alive. The rift won’t be closed tonight. We both know it, and it’s time to stop lying to ourselves. But that doesn’t mean the battle is over. We’ve been looking at this all wrong. The skies have been falling. Your cities have been burning. And we’ve been ignoring it. We’ve been too deep in our magic to pay attention. But you can’t save the world by abandoning the people you love most, whether it be a city full of owls somewhere high above the clouds, a city full of mages floating in the middle of the sea, or a single man whose love will give our greatest champion a reason to continue living. We can’t waste time pushing the rift back another useless inch, not when we can use it to save what matters most—lives. We need to fight for them. I need to fight for them, and I need you to fight with me, for however long we have left. Just this once, Malek, I need you to hear me. I need you to trust me.”
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Golden magic swelled, spilling through the open balcony into the sky. He stared at her through the haze of their power, his neck muscles strained, his lips flat, his brows set in a hard line even as his soul wavered. A breeze swept in from the outside, loosening a blond lock of hair so it fell over his forehead—and just like that, his carefully crafted walls came undone. All the fear he tried to hide, all the uncertainty, all the loneliness and pain bubbled to the surface as his spirit cried out to her for healing, for help. Her grip on his fingers tightened, as though somehow if she just held on with enough force, she could reach the person he kept hidden deep within. It was just the two of them in this room, and outside the world was dying. He didn’t have to carry the burden alone.
She was here.
She was with him.
“Please, Malek,” Lyana whispered, willing him to listen. “Please, just trust me.”