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For what? To save the woman he loved.

That had turned out really fucking great. He’d hurt her so badly she’d never look at him the same way again, and who could blame her?

He was so damned stupid.

“I need you here because I don’t expect the rebels tojust speakto us,” Loche said, responding to Zaddock’s earlier question as he refused to meet his friend’s eyes. “I need everyone I can spare, and last I remember, you were quite skilled with the sword.”

“Loche…” Zaddock hesitated, and Loche dragged his hands through his hair, wondering how to stop him from asking if he was all right again.

Of course he wasn’t.

He’d fucked up so bad. Ellow was in danger. So were his people. His friends.

Lessia.

“We all need to do what we can now.” Loche didn’t mean for his words to come out so harsh, but guilt was eating him up, and he could hardly stand it.

At least before, he had been able to think about the woman he’d done it for… But now?

It just made it all worse.

“We will.” Zaddock placed a hand on his shoulder. “I… I’ll be by your side until the end. I made you that vow once, and I will keep it.”

Loche fixed his gaze on an especially large rock formation to his left, even as he felt Zaddock’s gaze whisper across his face.

Because it would end for them, wouldn’t it?

He’d seen it in the Fae warriors’ eyes. In Ardow’s hesitant nod when Loche asked him to get the Faelings—those who had decided they wanted to fight for Ellow. He’d heard it in Zaddock’s shaky voice when he’d spoken to Amalise as she’d climbed into the small rowing boat without a goodbye.

It had only been Lessia who had some ember of hope lighting her amber eyes.

Not for herself… No, he’d seen that same acceptance in her that was mirrored within himself. Neither of them would survive this war, but she had hope for the world…

After everything, she had hope for this realm.

For the people she expected to leave behind.

That’s where they differed.

Loche shook his head. He had no idea how she did it.

“Regent.” Kerym, the more talkative of the raven-haired twins, approached the two of them, and Zaddock’s hand fell from his shoulder as Loche turned to face the Fae.

“What is it?” His brows furrowed as he studied the Siphon Twin, the worry marring his tan forehead.

“I sense something.” Kerym met his eyes briefly before his own shot across the water and dark isles around them. “Magic. Someone or something with magic is nearing.”

The two sisters—Loche had no idea why they stayed around—approached as well, halting right behind the Fae.

“The rebels are close.” Pellie placed a hand on Kerym’s shoulder, and Loche didn’t miss the slight jerk running throughthe Fae as he tried to plaster a playful grin across his features as he faced her. “You need to get your brother, handsome.”

“How do you know?” Kerym asked, his eyes flitting from the small hand on his shoulder to Pellie’s huge green eyes.

“We just do,” her sister interrupted. “We need to be ready.”

Loche slowly moved his narrowed eyes between the sisters when Zaddock stepped forward. “There. There is a small boat by the formation that looks like a cloud over there.”

Loche’s eyes shot in the direction his friend waved toward, and sure enough, a small white rowing boat approached them from between the islands.