Page 239 of Burn of the Everflame

“He’s lying,” I blurted out. “He’s tricking you into disobeying Ophiucae. He’s going to prove himself by turning you in.”

The men looked at me, then looked at Henri, who shook his head. “Don’t listen to her.”

“You little snake,” one man snarled at him. “You betrayed us.”

“He does that a lot,” I muttered.

“She’s a Descended,” Henri insisted. “All they speak are lies.”

“He’s already seen our faces,” the other man said. “Ophiucae could read his memories and see them, too.”

“Not if we kill him first,” the one beside me growled.

I held still and prayed to be forgotten as the men advanced on Henri. It’s his life or mine, I told my churning conscience. I owe him nothing. He would do the same to me.

They were the same claims I’d heard from countless mortals who had thrown a neighbor to the Descended wolves to save themselves. That was the Crowns’ favorite game, keeping us too busy to unite against them by encouraging us to fight each other. And though my reasons for sacrificing Henri weren’t wrong, nothing about it felt right.

I looked around, searching for an escape. North held two hooded figures who’d come to kill me. West was the city, teeming with angry men that Vance had left behind. East led to a sea my shackled arms couldn’t swim. And south . . .

South was Ophiucae.

I turned to the glowing form in the distance, and I ran.

“D, stop!” Henri shouted.

The use of my nickname, an endearment he no longer had any right to use, reignited my temper. The anger fueled me forward, though with the ground concealed in shadow, it was an effort to stay upright.

“Ophiucae, help me!” I screamed.

“You go shut her up,” a man snapped. “I’ll get rid of him.”

My conscience felt like a dragging anchor. He deserves this, I repeated in my head. Let him go, and don’t look back. But at the sounds of struggle behind me, I couldn’t keep my head from turning.

The regret was instant. I caught a flash of moonlight on a nearby blade, and as I jumped away, the heel of my boot clipped something in the dark and sent me sprawling. A hand fumbled over my calf, and I flailed my legs in a frenzy. My boot connected with soft flesh, drawing a grunt of pain and a swear.

“Ophiucae!” I screamed. “Ophiu—” A hand closed over my mouth as a body crushed down on top of me.

My training with my father had never prepared me for a fight like this. This wasn’t bladesmanship and strategic footwork, this was a primal, messy brawl to survive. Arms bound and blinded by the darkness, I thrashed like a feral cat, slamming us both against every solid object within reach. We rolled into a patch of light streaming from a library window, and my heart stopped as my pursuer’s blade came swinging—then stopped an inch from my face.

“Fuck!” he snarled.

A laugh of shocked relief bubbled out of me. “You can’t hurt me,” I cried, remembering Ophiucae’s order.

But I could hurt him.

I whipped forward and cracked my skull against his. Stars shimmered in my vision, and the man crumpled to the ground. I fought through the glittering pain and managed to climb to my feet. The sounds of fighting from Henri’s direction had gone unnervingly silent. In the north, the two hooded figures spotted me in the light and began running toward me.

I turned toward Ophiucae—and crashed immediately into a wall of flesh.

“If you’re going back to Ophiucae, you’ll have to kill me first.” Henri’s voice was flat, with the posture to match. He’d replaced his crossbow with a knife—and fresh blood was dripping from its blade.

“Gladly,” I spat. “I should have never let you live. You don’t deserve it. Your mother would be ashamed of what you’ve become.” A low, vicious blow, but it was the only weapon I had.

“I’ve known that for a while,” he said blandly. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you. What you deserve.”

Hurt surged through me, mixing with frustrated wrath. Why had I ever cared about him? He wasn’t even human anymore—a beast. Lower than a beast. A thing.

“Ophiucae’s going to kill you,” I hissed. “If he doesn’t, Luther will. I hope they make it slow. I hope they give you time to think about how you’ve done nothing but hurt everyone who loved you. I hope your last thought is what a waste your life has been.”