A shrill, squealing noise fills my mind. Every moment we’ve shared plays over. Every touch, every kiss, every word.
“JAREK!”
I struggle, reaching for him.
We’re so close, just a few feet. I strain, ignoring the way they pull out my hair, ignoring the blade cutting my skin. Our fingers almost touch.
We’re so close.
My alpha.
My mate.
I scream, the sound tearing from me. Panic. Denial. Agony.
“JAREK!”
Hot blood runs down my neck as I writhe, fighting to get free.
“Grab her.” I hear the words, but they are so far away. “What’s this, two?”
I’m picked up off my feet, but the knife is gone. I can see him better. My screams cut through the clash of swords, the Beta Goddess' laughter, and the suffering of the dying.
Jarek smiles; he’s staring at me. He sways alone, backed by the smoking city of dead alphas and omegas. His eyes don’t leave me, not for a second. He smiles, the same smile he always gives me, the one that lights my insides up, the one that makes everything okay, only this time it’s not okay; it will never be okay.
“I remember,” he whispers.
And then he falls back, and he’s gone. Just gone.
I howl.
The world is just my screams.
I claw at the hands that hold me until they suddenly let me go, but my legs don’t work. I drop to the stage, screaming. With my insides burning up, I crawl to the edge.
I look down, feeling the pull of my alpha.
On the stairs, I find him, not Jarek, but Mordecai, looking up at me. He has the beta who killed Jarek in his arms, and as I watch, he squeezes and crushes the life out of him.
My screams stop, but my sobs don’t. My whole body is trembling.
“It had to happen this way,” he says. “I finally was allowed to choose. My choice,” he coughs weakly. “It's always you.”
It doesn’t make sense. What does it mean? Mordecai looks strange. He smiles at me, and blood pours out of his mouth.
“No, no. Please, no. No! No!” My screams take on shrill, high-pitched notes of pure hysteria. I try to pull myself over the edge, but someone is holding my ankle.
My arms get weak, unable to hold me up, I collapse on my stomach, staring at him, trying to drag myself to the edge, fighting the hold. The world slows down, and the bond blooms with fire, burning up, burning into ash. Leaving me alone.
“Love you,” he whispers.
My alpha collapses, and I see his entire back has been opened up; white bone flashes through the red. So much red.
“MOREDCAI!” I scream his name so loud that the crowd stops fighting.
People turn towards us, but I keep screaming. The High King is dead. The Resistance has his body. But I don’t even care.
My alphas are gone.
