I lift a hand to brush the tears off her cheeks. Oh, Harper.

I wish she had. Not because of the curse, or because of Karis Luran, or because of Emberfall.

Because I have fallen in love with her.

“You’re being so kind.” She falls against me again. “I didn’t—I didn’t know this would be so hard—”

“Shh,” I whisper. “You’ve done more for me than I could have asked.”

She takes a breath and looks up, her dark eyes boring into mine. “I’ll miss you so much.”

She is breaking my heart. “And I you.”

“I’ll think of you all the—”

I lean in and kiss her.

I’m slow, and gentle, and it’s barely more than a brush of lips at first. A question, not a command. I wait for her to hesitate, to pull away, but tonight her lips part and her hands find my face, and then she’s kissing me back.

I pull her against me, tangling a hand in her hair, losing myself in the sweetness of her mouth and the heady warmth of her scent.

This, I keep thinking. There is no need to be sure. This is sure. This is real.

I never want this moment to end.

I’m terrible. I’m selfish. My hands find her waist. Stroke the length of her side. My fingers resent the lacing of her vest, the way her chemise is so securely buckled under her dagger belt.

Her hands slip under my jacket. Pull my shirt free. Her fingers brush my side. This moment is worth an eternity of suffering. I gasp into her mouth.

Then she makes a squeal of pain and jerks back.

She’s staring at her fingers. Blood decorates the tips. She’s blinking in confusion. “What—what—Rhen?”

She’s breathing heavily. So am I. We stare at those streaks of blood.

Then I jerk my jacket to the side, pulling the rest of my shirt free.

Scales of blue and green, luminescent and shimmering in the firelight, have grown over my skin in patches.

I stop breathing.

Scales. I cannot remember a time with scales. Fur, for certain, in every color imaginable. Reptilian skin in greens and browns. Exposed bone. Quills. Never scales.

I touch a hand to my side, where the largest patch has grown. The scales are deceptively sharp, with knifelike edges that slice at my fingertips. I jerk my hand away and gasp. Small stripes of blood well up on my skin.

Silver hell. Of course Lilith would offer her an escape this day. Of course.

Harper draws away. “What is it?” she whispers.

I cannot breathe.

“The change,” I say. My voice is rough with too many emotions to name.

“The change?”

I draw a shuddering breath. “The creature.”

She swallows. “The monster.” A pause for her own shuddering breath. “The monster that comes every season.”

I cannot meet her eyes, but I must. Hers are hot with betrayal.

And fear.

The fear allows me to hold her gaze. They all show fear eventually. I don’t know why I thought Harper would be any different.

“Yes, my lady. The monster.”

She says nothing. The silence between us could expand to fill the entire castle.

I remember our whispered promise. No more secrets.

“So you see,” I say, “if you have not fallen in love with me yet, I cannot see how your heart would change once my form does.”

“You’re the monster? You’ve killed all those people?”

My voice breaks as I say, “Please. You must understand.” I reach toward her.

She draws back before catching herself. We sit there breathing at each other, my betrayal heavy in the space between us.

“You’re going to kill them all again,” she whispers. “The castle is full of people.”

“I have planned for everything, my lady. My people will be safe.” I take a breath. “You will be safe.”

She wets her lips. “Rhen.”

There is only so much I can take.

I stand and turn away. “You must go.”

I wait for her to disagree. To call me back. To stop me before I reach the door.

She doesn’t.

Commander Grey is not pleased with my orders.

He stands at attention in the hallway as we wait for Harper to say her goodbyes to the people she’s grown close to, but I can read the frustration in his eyes. If the castle were as empty as it’s been for the last three hundred twenty-seven seasons, he would challenge me. But we’re not alone now. The door to Freya’s room is open, and Harper is hugging Zo and Freya and the children. A page waits nearby, toward the staircase to the Great Hall. Guardsmen stand at the entrance to this hallway.

Even from there, they can probably sense his displeasure.

Our presence here, my rule over these people in my father’s absence, is based on a precarious hierarchy. Insubordination could unravel it all, and swiftly.

With a start, I consider my father’s short temper, his intolerance, and wonder if this was the reason for it. When my father was in power, I never thought about where that power came from. I wonder if his rule, his position in power, was equally precarious.

“You are to return at once, Commander,” I tell Grey. “See the princess safely home but do not linger.”

“Yes, my lord.”

His voice is temperate, even, but he looks like he wants to draw his sword and run me through.

I cannot blame him. This curse traps him as effectively as it traps me. Sending Harper home removes all hope.

Grey will have his chance to run me through soon enough.

I pull a folded slip of paper from my belt and hold it out. “Your urgency is no small matter. This message was delivered when you and Harper were in the arena.”

He unfolds the paper briskly. His expression goes still as he reads, frustration replaced with surprise.

His eyes flick back to mine, and he keeps his voice low. “Karis Luran wants to meet at sunrise.” A pause, followed by a glance at Freya’s doorway. Then he makes a guess: “You have not shared this information.”

“The princess cannot afford to delay her return home,” I say, conscious of the ears in this hallway. My voice drops. “Even if she could, I cannot assure Harper’s safety if she were to remain long enough to join us. We may be victorious in convincing Karis Luran to withdraw from Emberfall—or the meeting may lead to all-out war. I do not need Harper physically here to speak of Emberfall’s alliance with Disi. Enough people believe in it for the alliance to seem real.” I pause. “But I need you, Grey.”

He folds the note and holds it out. Any displeasure is gone from his expression. “I will return as swiftly as possible.”

Harper appears in the doorway to Freya’s room. Her eyes are red-rimmed and damp, but her voice is steady. She avoids my eyes. “I’m ready.”

For an instant, the air seems to hesitate.

Grey wants to refuse my order.

I want to beg her to stay.

Harper finally looks at me. “I wish you’d told me.”

“Look at where we stand, my lady. You know now. If you’d known earlier, would your choice now be different?”

That seems to steady her. We are all trapped by circumstance, seeking a path to freedom. A path that does not exist.

“No. It wouldn’t.” Harper draws a deep breath. “I don’t … I don’t want it to end like this. On a lie. On a betrayal.”

I step close to her. Her breath catches but she doesn’t pull away this time. I lean close to feel her breath on my cheek one last time. “Do not remember this moment, my lady. The important ones are all that came before.”

“Rhen,” she whispers. “Please.”

I step back. “Commander Grey. Return her home. That is an order.”

As always, he obeys.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

HARPER

The smell of the city hits me first. The air is sharp and cold, full of exhaust fumes and cooking oil and an undercurrent of urine and a bonus of overfull dumpster. Grey and I have arrived in an alley, sandwiched between restaurants and a drugstore. The night sky hangs above, full of the same stars I saw in Emberfall, but they seem more distant here, blocked by the neon lights that shine everywhere.

The sound hits me next. I never realized how loud DC was, even in the middle of the night. Air compressors and buzzing neon and distant traffic. Even the wind is louder, whipping through the alley to lift my curls and slide between the threads of my sweatshirt.

Familiarity is slower, though I recognize this alley, the drugstore we stand behind. After six weeks in Emberfall, in breeches and vests or skirts and corsets, now my threadbare sweatshirt and jeans feel foreign. The only things I kept from the castle are my boots—and the simple leather satchel that hangs over my shoulder, which Rhen packed with a pouch of silver coins, half of Arabella’s jewelry, and five bars of gold. I have no idea how much it’s all worth here, but if nothing else, it’ll buy my family time.

Grey stands beside me, completely anachronistic in his weapons and armor with a flickering sign for Chinese food behind him. His expression is closed off, unreadable.

He’s said very little since Rhen gave the order for him to bring me home.

I feel immeasurably guilty. And betrayed. I don’t know what I am.

I swallow. “I’m here.” My eyes fill against my will, and I hastily swipe at my face. “You can go back.”