Page 215 of The Fallen Fae King

The spearing spotlight of sunlight, when I’d thought myself safe at night, shines straight down on Yara and Ahm.

My twin’s nestmates, who are under my sworn protection, scream.

I know that the sound will haunt me forever.

Yara and Ahm burst into flames.

I howl in desperation, diving toward them.

I bat at the flames, trying to put them out with my hands.

Tears are streaming down my face, but I don’t feel them.

I don’t hear the jeers and laughter of the crowd.

I only hear the roar of the fire and the screams of my friends, as they burn.

My hands scorch and blacken.

I sink to my knees, refusing to look away, as Yara and Ahm die.

The sunlight never stops. It is relentless.

Then I hear that terrible grinding sound, and heaving with sobs, I raise my head.

The sun that blazes in bronze in the roof’s center like a monstrous eye is peeling back.

The sun is about to stream down over the entire arena and burn every vampire.

I force myself to look away from what remains of Yara and Ahm toward the vampires who have become my friends.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

I didn’t save them.

I failed.

My heart aches that our lives will end like this.

The dragons must have always intended to burn us all.

I am on my knees but not to Taran, Maximinus, or Aurelius.

Did Aurelius ever mean what he said to me? Did he believe me about Tarquin?

I wish that I knew for sure.

I am happy that Freya and Daire have been crowned. They will be safer here than in any kingdom that I could offer them.

They have each other.

After all, I was never meant to bond.

A monster — a villain — does not get a happy ending.

This is what I deserve.

What I have earned.