So I start talking to them too.

I’m not sure whether they hear the prayers of night stalkers who betray their friends. Part of me wonders if asking will only make things worse, but the prayers come anyway, almost contrary to my will, a string of pleadings incomprehensible in my panic.

“You need to get her under cover,” Marcus grumbles, face strained as he stumbles backward toward us, still letting arrows fly. My stomach plummets when I catch sight of his quiver and realize he’s only got three arrows left.

I make the decision to carry Ellie into the trees.

Ellie’s breathing has gotten more rapid. She keeps clenching her jaw instead of allowing herself to scream.

“It’s okay; you can scream,” I tell her as I set her on the ground close to where the group hid their baggage.

She shakes her head, sweat drenching her forehead. “It’ll alert them.”

“No more than the scent of your blood already has.” I’m not sure it’s the right thing to say, because Ellie’s cheeks sink with horror, but the next time a contraction rips through her, she lets herself shout all the same.

“How is she having contractions? Shouldn’t the venom be keeping that from happening?” I ask.

Amity shakes her head. “If it’s psychosomatic like lychaen venom, it shouldn’t matter. Ellie isn’t in control of her contractions; her body is.”

Amity’s pulling vials and other materials out of her satchel, but her fingers keep fidgeting.

It’s not like Amity to shake like this.

It’s then that I realize Amity is preparing to deliver a child who won’t be viable.

No, no, no.

I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t…

But no. I have to breathe. This is my fault, and I have to see it through. I have to be here for Ellie, for…

Evander comes bursting through the trees, front soaked in the inky blood of the Others.

There’s a crazed look in his eyes, one that’s utterly unfamiliar on his usually gentle, carefree face.

It slowly morphs into horror when he realizes what’s happening.

Ellie catches his eye, and the sorrow they exchange with that one look threatens to shatter me.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby,” Ellie whispers. “I know it’s too early. I couldn’t…I couldn’t let…”

Evander kneels on the ground next to his wife. He takes her trembling hands in his and touches them to his forehead. “I know. I know. You were so brave, and I’m so proud of you. So immensely proud to get to say you’re my wife.”

Ellie’s brow furrows. “It’s too early.”

Evander’s voice breaks, and my heart cracks in two. “I know.”

Ellie begins sobbing.

No, no, no, no, no.

I can’t breathe, I can’t—

Evander’s neck snaps upward, his fiery gaze meeting mine, as if noticing I’m here for the first time.

“What are you doing here?”

My voice catches in my throat. Next to me Marcus goes stiff, though he keeps his eyes trained on the wood for any prowling Others.

“What? It’s not enough that you’ve unleashed a pack of Others on my wife? You can’t even be bothered to answer my question?”

My voice trembles, even as I try to hold onto it. “Andy, I’m—”

“Don’t call me that,” he snaps, his face twisting in anguish. “How…” He takes in a breath, his sea-green eyes shimmering with tears. “How dare you?”

I open my mouth, but no words come out.

Evander’s baby is about to die, and I’m the cause of it.

There’s nothing that can fix it.

Worst of all, I know that better than anyone.

Recognize the anguish in his heart better than anyone.

My mind flashes back to the joy in Evander’s and Ellie’s eyes when I stumbled in on Evander listening to the child’s heartbeat. The envy that settled in my stomach.

Fates, did I hope this into being?

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” I whisper, and even as Evander’s face hardens, it’s like I can’t help myself. Can’t help myself from trying to force him to understand, though I have no right.

Evander swallows. “You never do.”

Hurt pierces my chest at the truth of his words.

“And—Evander, I—”

I steal a glance at Ellie, but she has her eyes forced closed. The scent of her blood wafts to my nostrils.

“No.” Evander shakes his head. “I don’t want to hear any more excuses from you, Blaise. I’m done. I keep thinking I’m helping you, but really, I’ve just been enabling your selfishness.”

Marcus shifts. “Evander…”

Evander barks, but not toward Marcus. “No. Blaise, do you know how guilty I felt when you were taken? How many nights I lay sleepless because I worried over what had happened to you? And I know…I know your childhood was wretched. I know Clarissa deserved what she got for what she did to you. And I’m sorry, Blaise. I’m truly sorry for what you suffered. But you know what else I’m sorry for? I’m sorry for giving so much of myself to someone who doesn’t want to be helped, someone who doesn’t care to get better. I put my family in danger for you. And I can’t blame you for that. It was my own choice, my own doing. But you…you’re so desperate to fill that void inside you, so desperate for some twisted ideal of love, that you throw away the people who actually care about you.

“I know why you did it, why you betrayed us. We all know. Even little Amity here knows. It doesn’t matter what anyone else has done to prove we loved you. You’re just going to throw it away for the attention of the first male who looks your way.

“So yes, you should have been nervous to tell me about Nox. And yes, I would have said you were being stupid. And I’m so, so tired of caring about whether you ruin yourself. Ruin everything you touch. Because that’s what you do.