“I see he has done nothing to make you behave appropriately,” Byron complained.

“He likesit when I stab things. Call it a character flaw,” I said, smirking in spite of my death staring me in the face. The fact that Caldris himself paused meant he knew exactly how quickly Byron could drag the blade across my throat. He knew even he couldn’t cross that distance in time to get to me.

“She’s just a mate,” Caldris said, tossing Byron one of his trademark smirks. “But it’s cute that you think her soul will be powerful enough to form a Veil. The last male who gave his life to it was a God, but sure. She should do the trick.”

I jerked against Byron’s grip, knowing exactly what Caldris was doing. Whether his words were true or not, I wouldn’t allow him to give his life when I felt the ominous energy rolling off the boundary. I felt it in my flesh, whatever came when I crossed the barrier would be horrible. It would be a fate worse than death—all the things Brann had promised.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s just toying with you,” I said.

“Perhaps, but a Veil formed from his soul would be a lovely trophy, and then you would still be alive.Without a mate,” he said, leaving little doubt as to where that would leave me exactly.

“And I would still choose death over you.”

“Lay down your swords,” Byron said, his order going straight over me and to Caldris. My mate dropped his swords at his side, not flinching in the slightest when the two men stepped up to him. He held my gaze as he placed his hands in front of him, allowing them to shackle his wrists in iron while he grimaced. His skin sizzled inside them, nearly dropping him to his knees as the force of it weakened him.

The chain that connected the two shackles hung between his arms, swaying as he stood. “Now let her go.”

“Don’t do this. I’m ready to die,” I said.

“If you’re gone, then so am I,” he returned, smiling slightly. The Guards brought him closer to the boundary, until he stood beside me but out of reach. Byron spun me to face him, watching as the Mist Guard forced him to his knees in the sand.

“Stop,” I ordered, wincing when the protest fell on deaf ears. One of the witches stepped up, chanting at the edge of the boundary. The waters of the ocean receded from my feet, sucked into the vortex as she created a wall from the very seawater itself.

“O’ dromneacht en farroile,”she said, drawing her hand up from where it lay beside her thigh.“Go ti en sparath thas.”The Guard pressed his blade to Caldris’s throat in preparation for whatever was about to come.

“No!” I shrieked, the sound blasting from within me. It echoed through the space, cracking into the wall of water the witch worked to build. She flew back into it, the wall bursting back into the ocean like a popped bubble.

Time stood still as she broke through the wall, falling to the ocean below. The water was shallow, her head smacking against the sand as she landed. Darkness descended, crashing through the twilight with the force of a midnight sky.

I twisted my head, ignoring the fiery path the blade drew across my throat, and grabbed Byron’s arm with both hands. Pushing the knife away from my neck while I turned, I elbowed him in the side as I spun free from his grip. In the same moment, Caldris rose to his feet, smashing his shackled hands into the face of the first Guard and disarming him with a fluidity that still took my breath away.

He tossed me the sword he’d stolen, not pausing to see if I caught it before he turned his attention to the other Mist Guard. I spun again, catching the sword out of mid-air as I twirled. I wrapped my fingers around the hilt, swinging in an upward arc. The Lord’s stared at me in horror as I faced him, something shining off his pale skin. The light of a million stars twinkled over his flesh as I sliced the sword toward his neck. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but he never managed to say the words.

The edge of the blade cut deep into his throat, blood splattering against my face and chest as I closed my eyes. My stomach heaved as fire lit me from the inside. My shoulders slumped forward as I staggered backward two steps, folding in on myself and watching Byron’s hand fall away from the hilt of his dagger. His eyes were glossy, his mouth parted in shock as he raised both hands to his throat and tried to hold the flow of blood within his neck. It stained his skin, spilling through his fingers and onto his wrists in a heavy stream.

The hilt of his dagger burned my hand as I grasped it, pulling it free from my stomach carefully and tossing it to the ground. Time slowed, my vision going hazy at the edges. I swayed but managed to stay on my feet long enough to watch Byron crumple to the ground before me. His blank, unseeing eyes stared up at the raining, night sky, and the Void pressed in on me.

Caldris hurried to my side, thrusting his hand into Byron’s chest. He wrapped his fingers around Byron’s still heart, yanking it free and tossing it to the serpents that guarded my mother. They devoured it as if it was their only meal for the day, destroying Byron’s soul before it could have time to leave his body.

“Not all men are worthy of reincarnation,” Caldris said, rising to his full height. His hand was stained with blood, his armor coated in the thick, cloying scent of death. I raised a hand to my stomach, concealing the wound I didn’t want him to see.

Even as exhaustion claimed my limbs, I forced myself to remain standing. Caldris yanked his shackles apart, snapping the chain that connected them as he closed the distance between us. Reaching up to touch my cheek, his nostrils flared as he scented the air. His brow furrowed as his gaze darted over my face and my neck.

My bottom lip trembled as his focus finally settled on the hand covered in blood. He pulled it away, eyeing the stab wound as my knees buckled beneath me. “Fuck,” he grunted, catching my weight as we dropped to the ground. “Imelda!” he shouted, wrapping an arm behind me and shifting me so that my head rested in his lap.

The witches stepping toward us told me everything I needed to know, why he’d summoned Imelda to his side. She moved between us and them, holding up her hands to placate them. “The Veil was never meant to be anything but temporary. One of these girls needs to get to Alfheimr,” she murmured, the words sounding all too distant as she spoke them.

Caldris pulled the dagger from his sheath, lifting it to his wrist. I reached up, grasping his hand and pulling it down. “Take Fallon to Alfheimr. Whatever is waiting for her, help her however you can,” I said, swallowing back the surge of white hot nausea creeping up my throat. “Imelda thinks she needs to get there.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, staring down at where I gripped his wrist and refused to let it go.

“We both know the odds of me not being Mab’s daughter are almost nil. The Veil was created to keep me from her. Maybe this is how it was supposed to be, Caldris,” I said, touching his cheek with my other hand. “This is where my life was always meant to end.”

“Don’t you dare ask that of me,” he growled, the rumble crawling up his chest and his throat.

“I don’t have a choice,” I rasped, watching as he cut his wrist with the blade against my wishes. I closed my mouth, turning my face away from him when he tried to guide it to my lips.

“I will not sit here and watch you die,” he said, leaning his face over mine. Staring into the shock of his blue eyes, I felt the rain around us turn to snow as his magic took over and pushed away the witches’ magic.