He lunges at me.

I fling my illusions at him, wrapping him in a net. He staggers backward for an instant, clawing at his face—he thinks there is a white-hot blade stabbing him in the eyes. But somehow, through our link, Enzo is able to discern which threads are real and which are illusion. He pushes it aside. Then he shakes his head, fixes his eyes on me again, and sends fire searing toward me.

Enzo, no. I throw my hands up and scream. So, after everything, this is how I will die—burned alive, the way I should have gone all along.

The flames sear my skin. But then, an instant later, an ice-cold blast of rain strikes me hard, quenching the fire. The force of the wave knocks me to my knees. When I look up, Sergio clings to the back of a balira right over our heads, the creature’s enormous wings spraying water across the deck as it turns in a spiral.

Enzo looks up too. His moment of distraction is all that I need. I take the opportunity to reach out and hurl my threads of energy through our tether. Enzo winces as my claws rake back into place, returning control into my hands. Enzo shudders. He fights me once more, but then stops. I fall to my knees on the deck, breathing hard. Nearby, Enzo crouches onto one knee too. His head is bowed. We are both exhausted.

“You live because I say so,” I hiss, my teeth clenched together. My rage builds, filling every corner of my body. I can no longer see the boy I once loved. I can hardly see anything at all. The whispers take over, wrenching away my control over myself. My voice is no longer mine, but theirs. “And you will do as I command.”

Once more, I reach through our bond and pull hard.

Set this world on fire, Enzo. With everything you have.

Enzo turns his head to the sky. He takes a deep, ragged gasp of breath.

Raffaele steps forward. “No!” he calls out, but it’s too late.

Fire explodes from Enzo’s hands.

It leaps over the railing of our ship and races across the water in all directions. The closest ring of warships catches fire instantly. From each of them, the flames radiate out, one ring expanding after another, setting alight the honeycomb of ships. Every Elite on board our ship freezes to watch it unfold. Screams echo from the burning ships.

Enzo’s power flows endlessly, engulfing everything in its wake. Explosions deafen us as the fire finds cannons on board the ships. The blasts throw us all to our knees. I can feel the tremor of it through the deck’s wood. Farther and farther burns Enzo’s fire, until all of the Beldish warships are ablaze, connected to one another by lines of fire as far as the eye can see. The flames lick high into the sky. I lift my head and let the rain fall on me, soaking in the feeling of his darkness. I am taken back to the night at the Spring Moons, so long ago, when the Daggers had set the Estenzian harbor on fire.

Finally, Enzo lowers his head. His shoulders hunch, and he falls to his knees. He lets out a moan, and when I look closer, I realize that the horrible burns that have always plagued his hands are now as high as his elbows, his skin destroyed, crisped black. His eyes remain dark pools, and a small ring of fire still encircles him.

All around us, the Beldish warships burn. Maeve looks on, stricken with disbelief. It is the first time I have ever seen her stunned into silence.

Teren motions his Inquisitors forward. A triumphant smile is on his face. It takes me a moment to realize that perhaps he thinks I did all this for him. “I want her head!” he commands, pointing his sword at Maeve.

But the Beldish queen is already on the move. Lucent exchanges a quick look with her, then calls a curtain of wind to send her soaring into the sky. One of her brothers flies by. He reaches out for her arm, grasps it, and then pulls her up onto the back of his balira.

But my eyes are fixed on Raffaele. He walks toward where Enzo stands, the prince’s eyes still liquid dark, his face frozen in fury, the ring of fire burning near his feet. I don’t know why I pause to watch Raffaele. Perhaps I have always done so, so captivated am I by his beauty. Even now, in the midst of death and destruction, he moves with the grace of someone not of this world. His attention is focused entirely on Enzo. The sight breaks my heart, and a small, lost part of me sparks with light.

Raffaele reaches Enzo. Flames still burn on Enzo’s hands, but for some reason, he doesn’t move to attack. Instead, he waits as Raffaele reaches up to curl a hand around the back of his neck, then pulls him close so that their foreheads touch. Tears streak Raffaele’s face. Suddenly I remember how he had looked on the day he turned his back on me, the way he had closed his eyes when I begged him to let me stay. It is the same expression he wears now.

Enzo narrows his eyes. He moves as if to grab Raffaele’s wrist with his burning hands, to burn him alive from the inside out.

“Don’t,” Raffaele whispers to Enzo. And even though Enzo’s eyes stay black, Raffaele does not flinch away. He remains where he is, surrounded by fire.

Enzo’s eyes flicker. He blinks at Raffaele, confused, and then lowers his face toward him. Raffaele leans forward, closes his eyes, and rests his head against Enzo’s shoulder. I do not need to touch them to know that Raffaele’s energy is coursing through Enzo now, healing and soothing, calming, pushing against the fury of his own.

For a moment, Raffaele looks at me. His jewel-toned eyes are breathtaking in the light of the fire.

“Don’t,” he says again, this time to me.

Teren snarls. He steps forward now, ready to lunge for Raffaele.

“Violetta!” I scream. And up in the air, she answers. She reaches out and pulls.