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I falter, taken aback by the odd request. Is he so sure of his looming control that he would give me the means to kill him if given the slightest chance? Nonetheless, I’m unable to think about it for long as my shaky hand extends forward and grabs the weapon from Lydia in one single motion. She barely had a hold of it. My sweet, selfless little siren would never have taken a life—not even this pathetic one hiding behind a mask. Lydia’s wide eyes dart to the gun in my hand before returning her gaze to mine.

As soon as I have it, he hooks his arm around Lydia, tugging her against him. She screams, terror consuming her beautiful features in an instant.

“Callum, look at me,” the masked figure commands. His voice is dark, direct, lethal. I strain as I drag my gaze away from Lydia.

“What the fuck do you want? Take me instead of her. Let her go,” I say, the answer to my question becoming painfully apparent as I realize what he’s doing.

No, no, no. He fucking wouldn’t. He can’t do this.

A low chuckle reverberates from his chest, almost amused, as his head tilts slightly to the side. He watches the moment the realization forms, breaking something open in my expression.

“Callum,” Lydia cries out, her voice breaking as she fits the pieces of the sick and twisted puzzle together.

I know the words of the next command before they fill the air around us. I know that I’ll do what he orders, because I have no other choice. I search my mind for a way out of this, for some way to break this compulsion. Riven was able to do it with Sloane when Sabel captured her. Maybe it would work for me, too.

“Shh, love,” I whisper to only her. “I-I–”

“Stop talking, and do not say another fucking word,” the masked figure commands, halting the next words from existence—the four-letter word that could put an end to all of this.

She’ll never know. She’ll never fucking know how I feel about her. I’m such a fucking coward, even now as I’m about to do the unthinkable.

“Turn the gun around and point it at your girlfriend, now,” he orders, his control teetering on the edge of insanity.

I knew the words were coming, at least some version of it. And still, it cracks something open deep inside of me. My eyes squeeze shut as I turn the gun. When I open them, the weapon is aimed directly at my girlfriend.

Her sharp inhale cuts through the rain, her fear palpable from where I stand. Tears press behind my eyes as my hands begin to betray me, trembling hard enough that I struggle to hold the weapon steady. Every instinct within me, every fucking fiber of my being, is screaming at me to stop. I drop my gaze to the grass instead, unable to look her in the eyes while I take her fucking life.

“Callum, it’s o-okay,” Lydia stutters, her emotions threatening to drag her under. “It’s okay. Just d-do it.”

I freeze, my chest unbearably tight as I force my gaze to hers. I know what I’ll find when our eyes meet, and yet, nothing could prepare me for the actual moment.

The beautiful, bright blue is now rimmed in a red so violent it steals my breath. She tries to soften her gaze, to smooth out the anguish threatening to pull her under. Her chin lifts, her sniffles breaking through the steady fall of rain as she drags her lips into something that barely resembles a smile. It fucking tears me apart to see her like this, but I force myself to hold her gaze.

“Callum,” she whispers, her next words nearly bringing me to my fucking knees. “I love you.”

I love you, too, I say silently. I’m unable to speak the words back to her, to even mouth them—and it leaves me completely fucking hollow. She deserves so much better than this. And if I can’t save her in this life, then I’ll follow her into the next. I’ll make sure that this masked psycho has nothing left to bargain.

“Enough,” the masked figure barks out. “Pull the trigger, Callum. Do it now.”

“Do it, Callum,” Lydia whispers, holding my gaze as a steady stream of tears rolls down her face. “End this. I’ll wait for you on the other side. I’ll always wait for you.”

Her words break me further, digging deep and piercing something vital. When I follow her, I’m going to hunt this motherfucker down from the afterlife and drag him to the depths of Hell.

My finger cradles the trigger, unsteady and unwilling. I battle with myself as my mind begins to accept this cruel fate, and I start a silent countdown inside my head.

Three.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I say the words over and over in my mind, hoping that by some chance they don’t need to be said aloud to do what I need them to. Lydia drops to her knees despite her captor. Though she grows weaker, she doesn’t scream, or beg, or fight for her life. She’s accepting this fate. She’s sacrificing her own life for mine.

Two.

Something shifts inside my mind, like a weight lifting from a place of restriction. I feel it instantly. It’s as if Kaila’s voice is inside my head, begging me not to give up—begging me to try harder. I fight hard to flip the gun and point it at the motherfucking asshole who has my girl. It doesn’t budge. Panic rises within me at the realization that I am truly going to kill my girlfriend. I stare down into Lydia’s eyes, forcing the unspoken words to find her. I have to try harder.

One.

I force my hand to obey me. The gun shifts in my grip, turning without resistance. Staring down in amazement, I aim it directly at the mask of our captor. He drops his hand, jerking back as a scream ripples through him. His arms shoot up in surrender, high above his head this time. But he doesn’t run. He doesn’t move. I stare, my brow pinching in confusion as my mind struggles to piece this together. Why the fuck isn’t he running?

“Callum,” I hear Lydia cry out. “Do it.”