This isn’t fair. This isn’t right. Not Deigh. Not…Liam. They’re the strongest of our year. They’re the best of us.

“Can’t make it,” Liam says, stumbling forward and tripping.

I rush to catch him as he goes down, but his substantial weight is too much for me, and we both fall to our knees. “We can make it,” I force out through my tightening throat, trying to hook his arm over my shoulders. We’re so close.

If a venin comes along, then I’ll deal with it.

“We can’t.” He crumples against me, sliding down my side. I fall back on my heels and his head lands in my lap as his body goes limp. “It’s all right, Violet,” he says, looking up at me, and I shove my goggles on top of my head so I can see him clearer.

He’s struggling to breathe.

“It’s not all right.” I want to scream with the injustice of it, but that won’t help. My hand trembles as I slide his riding goggles up to his forehead, then brush his blond hair back off his forehead. “None of this is all right. Please stay,” I beg, tears I can’t fight rolling unchecked down my cheeks. “Fight to stay. Please, Liam. Fight to stay.”

“At Parapet—” His face twists in pain. “You have to take care of my sister.”

“Liam, no.” I choke on the words as tears clog my throat. “You’ll be there.” I stroke his hair. He’s fine. He’s physically, perfectly fine, and yet I’m watching him slip away. “You have to be there.” He has to smile at the sister he’s missed for years and flash that dimple of his. He has to give her the stack of letters he’s written. He deserves it after all he’s been through.

He can’t die for me.

“Tairn,” I cry. “Tell me what to do.”

“There’s nothing you can do, Silver One.”

“We both know I won’t. Just promise you’ll take care of Sloane,” he begs, his eyes searching mine as his breaths grow ragged. “Promise.”

“I promise,” I whisper, taking his hand and squeezing, not bothering to wipe my tears. “I’ll take care of Sloane.” He’s dying and there’s nothing I can do. Nothing anyone can do. How can all this power be so fucking useless?

The pulse under my thumb slows.

“Good. That’s good.” He forces a weak smile, and that dimple makes a faint appearance before his expression falters. “And I know you feel betrayed, but Xaden needs you. And I don’t just mean alive, Violet. He needs you. Please hear him out.”

“All right.” I nod, fighting to force a watery smile. He could ask for anything right now, and I’d give it to him. “Thank you, Liam. Thank you for being my shadow. Thank you for being my friend.” He blurs in my vision as the tears come faster.

“It’s been. My honor.” Liam’s chest rattles as his lungs struggle.

A gust of wind blows the loosened strands of my braid back from my face. Seconds later, I feel Xaden racing toward us, a torrent of his emotions overwhelming my own.

“No, Liam,” Xaden chokes out as he crouches in front of us, the muscles in his face working to control his expression, but there’s no hiding the despair that pushes at our mental connection.

“Deigh,” Liam pleads in a strangled whisper, turning his head toward Xaden.

“I know, brother.” Xaden’s jaw flexes and our gazes lock above Liam as tears overflow my eyes. “I know.” He leans forward and lifts Liam into his arms, then stands, carrying him. “I’ll take you.”

He walks slowly across the gravelly terrain to Deigh’s body, saying things I can’t hear from where I kneel, the rocks digging into my knees through the fabric of the leather as I watch Xaden say goodbye.

Xaden lowers Liam, sitting him against Deigh’s unblemished shoulder, then kneels beside him, nodding slowly at whatever Liam has said.

The cry of a wyvern splits the air above us, and I look up instinctively.

A cloud of flapping gray wings moves toward us from higher up the valley. Wyvern. Dozens and dozens of wyvern.

“Look up at the valley!”

Liam’s head rolls slowly as they both look.

Xaden’s head bows, and my breath freezes in my lungs as shadows momentarily whip out around him, like a blast of menace and sorrow.

Seconds later, his soundless, soul-rending scream fills my head with such force that my heart shatters like glass against a stone floor.

I don’t need to ask. Liam is gone.

Liam, who never complained about being my shadow, never hesitated to help, never bragged about being the best of our year. He died protecting me. Oh gods, and I just asked him if we’d ever really been friends an hour ago.

Just one of those beasts managed to kill my friend; what the hell can that many accomplish?

A bloodied wyvern dives for us, and Tairn throws his wing over me. I hear the sound of his teeth snapping and a sharp cry above me before his wing retracts.

“We’re targets on the ground,” Tairn says as the wyvern flies away.

“Then let’s be the ones who hunt.” I stumble to my feet in time to see Xaden running my way.

“Violence!” Xaden grasps my shoulders, determination lining his features. “Liam told me to tell you that there are two riders with that horde.”

“Why would he tell me and not—” An anvil sits on my chest.

“Because he knew I’d have to be the one who holds off the wyvern as long as possible.” He studies my face like he’ll never see it again.

“And I’m the one who can kill them all.” It will kill me to wield that many times, but I’m the best shot we have. The best shot he has to survive.

“You can kill them.” He yanks me close and kisses my forehead. “There is no me without you,” he says against my skin.

Before I can react, he turns toward the valley and lifts his arms—throwing up a wall of shadow that consumes the space between the ridgelines. “Go! I’ll give you as much time as I can!”

Every second matters, and these are bound to be my last—our last.

In the span of one heartbeat, I look over my shoulder, past Tairn, and see the flaming ruins of the trading post. Townspeople run from the city walls, fleeing the wyvern that circle above. My stomach drops at our failure—we haven’t managed to evacuate all the civilians.

At the second beat, I draw a stuttered breath of smoke-laden air as a lone gryphon flies through the haze, followed by Garrick and Imogen on their dragons, and I can only hope the others are still alive.

In the third heartbeat, I turn back toward Liam’s and Deigh’s lifeless bodies, and rage floods my veins faster than any lightning strike I’ve ever wielded. The horde of wyvern behind Xaden’s wall will tear into Tairn and Sgaeyl just like Deigh.

And Xaden… No matter how strong he is, Xaden won’t be able to hold them forever. His arms already shake with the effort of controlling so much power. He’ll be the first to die if I’m not exactly what he called me under that tree all those months ago. Violence.

There are dozens of wyvern and one of me.

I have to be as strategic as Brennan and as confident as Mira.

I’ve spent the last year trying to prove to myself I’m nothing like my mother. I’m not cold. I’m not callous. But maybe there is a part of me that’s more like her than I care to admit.