A female stands beside him, and it takes me a moment to recognize Princess Olwen.

There’s a male fighting in rhythm with Olwen, as if their tree limbs are simply extensions of one another.

I can’t see the wyvern they fight from this angle, but I hear it shrieking down at the fae who fight at it from below.

I’m suspended in time as I watch him. The male who looks like Andy, but isn’t. There’s something about him that’s changed on an innate level, something about him that’s so unfamiliar, it’s painful to watch.

Painful, but also beautiful.

I realize Andy has grown into himself. That I wasn’t there to witness it.

There’s a strength in him I don’t recognize; never have I felt so disconnected.

I watch him fight. Watch him defend as I’m helpless to lend him assistance as I hide in the shadows.

I realize then what must have changed him.

Ellie’s cries pierce my ears and make me want to scream.

There’d been no news on Evander’s child.

No one had heard what had become of the baby.

It’s changed me, and now it’s changed him, except it’s all my fault, and I don’t even deserve to share the load of his pain.

The pain I caused.

Evander turns to look at me.

Well, it’s probably not that he’s looking at me. More that he’s looking to the side, having glimpsed a ghost in the corner of his vision.

But his eyes settle on me. Then widen.

The shadow of the sun has crept closer on the balcony, burning my fingertips.

I step back into the shadows, panic surging through me.

Evander opens his mouth, and I scream, but it’s too late. The tail of the wyvern comes crashing down into his side, sending him soaring, Olwen shouting his name.

No. No, no, no.

Always getting in the way, always ruining his life, whispers the parasite.

My hand comes to my mouth as I watch Evander’s body slam against the stone garden wall.

No.

I run for him, but my skin hisses in protest as I hit the wall of sunlight.

My paldihv. Nox has the paldihv.

You made your choice, silly servant girl. Did you really think you could save them both?

The wyvern slams Evander against the wall again, and this time I hear something crack. It reverberates in my skull, deafening.

No. No, no, no.

I could help you, whispers the parasite. Or you can stand here and watch him die. Your choice, I suppose.

But I’m not taking any of those choices.

Instead, I do what I’m best at.

I shirk into the shadows and hide from that which frightens me most.

CHAPTER 105

BLAISE

I listen from the shadowed colonnades as the wyvern rips the palace to pieces.

The worst part is realizing there’s nothing I can do.

I can hear Olwen from here, calling out orders to Evander’s soldiers. Screaming her brother’s name as she fights back the wyvern.

I can hear her thorns slashing at its tail as it beats Evander into the wall.

My heart aches.

Everything aches.

My friend is out there. My friend who I’ve made my enemy, and it doesn’t matter that in the weeks since I’ve seen him, Evander has grown into his place as a king.

Andy is going to die out there. He’s going to leave Ellie with nothing, a bereaved mother and wife, and there’s nothing I can do.

His blood will be on my hands, the same as his child’s, when this Other slays him.

We could help him, you know, whispers a voice from the darkness, a voice that makes my skin crawl with dread.

The voice slithers from the pocket inside my robes, the one just above my chest. We could save Andy. It’s what we both want.

“No,” I whisper. “I’m done letting you make my decisions for me.”

You know it would work. I can still feel it, that desperation to be someone else. It leaks off of you, more potent than it’s ever been. It has been since you betrayed your friends, since you realized what you’d done to your friend’s child. You desire nothing more than to be anything other than yourself. With my help, you could transform into anyone you want. It would be so easy. Like telling your fingers to curve. Like willing your lungs to take a breath. Let me in, and you’ll never have to hide from the sun again. Think of what we could transform into together. Something larger, grander than the others. I could make you a savior, Blaise.

“No, you’d take my body and run. I know you,” I whisper.

You do. Which means you know how I crave the prince. How I would never let him suffer. You might have forgotten about the princeling the first moment a new set of eyes swiveled in your direction, but I am not so fickle. I do not wish the prince to perish. In this, you can be confident. I will not allow him to die.