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But she knew Tate could no longer hear her.

Tiege took Zachariah’s quiet words like stabs to the chest. His lungs refused to work. He made a sound in the back of his throat that had a couple of heads swiveling in confusion. Fortunately, the illusion held.

He had been told Tate was dead once before. He refused to go through it again.

Because Zachariah kept his gaze averted, Tiege grabbed his arm to get his attention. His fierce grip had the Mercesti snapping his head around and glaring at him.

Perfect.

“Don’t you dare give up,” Tiege commanded. “You’re the most hard-headed being I’ve ever met. If you want to be a part of this family, you need to earn the right, damn it. Share that stubborn strength with your avowed.”

When Zachariah’s frown faded, Tiege put his left hand on his shoulder and reached for the tomahawk with his right. “You’re right,” he said, hefting the weapon. “Tate never listens.” He began hacking at the wood. “She deliberately goes against what she’s told. So tell her that she’s too weak to survive something like this. Tell her that you’re not surprised Eirik managed to get the better of her. Tell her that I was always Mom and Dad’s favorite, anyway. Tell her…whatever she needs to hear.”

For once, the Mercesti didn’t argue. Instead, he closed his eyes and concentrated. Tiege continued to pound the tomahawk into the door. Tate and Ariana were somewhere beyond this single boundary. He didn’t care how long it took. He didn’t care if he had to rip the wood apart with his fingernails. He would get through it.

As soon as that thought entered his head, he realized how close the sounds of battle had gotten. Someone screamed right behind him, but he couldn’t afford to let it distract him.

Down went the tomahawk. Then back up.

Before he brought it down again, blood splattered over him and Zachariah. He felt the illusion dissolve even as he turned to see a Mercesti’s head roll one way and his body fall the other.

With the glare of sunlight shining between his shoulder blades, Derian stepped over the body. He looked between Tiege and Zachariah, then down at the door.

“Seems yer in need of an axe,” he observed as the battle raged around them.

“We have an axe,” Tiege argued, waving the tomahawk.

Derian snorted. “Stand aside.”

Since the Mercesti lifted his lochaber axe with the clear intent to swing it down, Tiege scrambled to abandon the door. Zachariah also moved out of the way. They watched as the Mercesti male lowered his weapon in a mighty blow.

The door to the library exploded.

“They have breached the entrance.”

Ariana heard Eirik shout at Metis, but she didn’t care. She knelt on the ground and lifted Tate’s upper body, holding her close. Shock over what she had just done to Deimos clouded her senses. She barely realized where she was. All she could focus on was Tate.

The female she held was the twin sister of the male she loved, and she had contributed to her death.

There would be no going back after this. It didn’t matter if Eirik and Metis left the library right then and never harmed a hair on her head. Ariana could never go back to Tiege now. He deserved someone far stronger than her.

“You must get us out of here, Metis,” Eirik growled. “They have extended their wings. We have only a minute or two before they are upon us.”

Not bothering to wipe her tears, Ariana clutched Tate to her, rocking back and forth. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“Deimos is dying!” Metis shouted, sounding as distraught as she ever had. “She’s killed him.”

“I do love Tiege,” Ariana continued with a sob. “And I wanted to love you. But you loved a Mercesti, and I couldn’t move past that.”

“Then you must finish the kill and attempt to assume his abilities,” Eirik said. “You created him, so perhaps you have a better chance of it working. Do it
now
.”

Ariana’s gaze grew unfocused as her thoughts pulled inwards. “You loved a Mercesti…one who saved my life as much as he did yours.”

“It is you or him, Metis.”

“And then he taught me how to save my own.” Shame and remorse flourished as shock eased. “I let fear rule me.”

There was a scream and flurry of movement. Ariana didn’t watch as Metis grabbed Eirik’s outstretched kris and brought it down to end Deimos’ life. The horrifying sound of the weapon sinking into his chest barely registered. A wash of dark light, accompanied by the deepest chill Ariana had ever felt, crawled along her back as she curled over Tate’s body.

“Ariana!”

Finally, she looked up. Tiege was within sight of them. When she blinked, releasing two tears, her vision cleared enough that she could almost make out the features of his face.

“Run!” he called to her.

But she wouldn’t leave Tate.

When she felt Metis touch her head, she kept her gaze on Tiege in hopes he could see her more clearly than she saw him.

Then she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Sophia, Quincy, Clara Kate and Ini-herit were right behind Derian and Melanthe on the battlefield, so they all piled into the library after Tiege and Zachariah. Melanthe raced ahead of them, following the map inside her head.

“Wait!”

The order came from Quincy. Sophia staggered to a stop beside him, confused. When she got a good look at his face, she finally realized just how difficult this must be for him. He appeared to be having some kind of flashback. It had his complexion going pale and his silver eyes unfocused. Her heart wrenched over what had to be painful memories.

He explained, “Assuming they’ve reached the scroll piece, they’ll be far from here…at least an hour by foot.”

When everyone looked at each other, he extended his wings. “I remember now.”

No one argued. Going against the rules of the Elphresti, they all took flight. Although she felt a strong urge to get ahead of everyone else and fly faster, Sophia stayed back with Quincy, Clara Kate and Ini-herit, letting Melanthe serve as the guide. Derian, Tiege and Zachariah flew beside her in a staggered pattern so their wings didn’t touch. All of them had their weapons drawn.

Within a couple of minutes, they spotted Eirik standing with a piece of parchment in one hand and a black kris in the other. The low timbre of his voice carried to them, though they couldn’t make out the words. Those were followed by a high-pitched voice that Sophia assumed was Metis. The female wasn’t visible.

Neither were Tate and Ariana.

When she realized how far they still were from her cousin and friend, a surge of energy rushed through her. It wasn’t unlike the one that had overtaken her when she killed Bertram as a panther. Her instinct to shift was nearly unstoppable.

But she knew Quincy wanted her to stay with him. Although they hadn’t had much time to discuss it, she saw how much her disappearance had cost him.

She must have made a sound that alerted him, as he suddenly looked over at her. She could almost feel herself vibrating with the need to shift. The need to help Tate and Ariana. When she caught his gaze, she saw the glow of her eyes reflected in his irises.

“Do it,” he said.

That was all the encouragement she needed. Diving, she headed straight to an aisle. A few feet from the ground, she shifted into a cheetah. Her clothes and armor fell into a forgotten heap as she surged ahead. She shot past stacks of books and scrolls. Elaborate bookcases passed in a blur. The only thing imprinted on her mind was the path to Tate and Ariana, and she knew she could get to them.

“Ariana!” Tiege shouted from somewhere far behind her.

She was nearly there. Just one more stack of bookcases…

“Run!”

The urgency in Tiege’s voice had Sophia flinging herself around the last bend. To her left, she saw Eirik with his hand on Deimos’ shoulder. Ariana sat on the ground in front of him with Tate’s upper body cradled in her arms. Metis was missing, but Sophia couldn’t worry about that. Deimos touched Ariana’s head, his mouth moving as he chanted.

Even as Sophia leaped from the side with the intent of tearing into Eirik, she heard Ariana whisper, “I’m sorry.”

Sophia’s flight through the air didn’t have her sinking her teeth into flesh, however. It had her crashing spectacularly.

Eirik and Metis were gone, and they had taken Tate and Ariana with them.

“No!”

Tiege’s cry echoed through the vast library. Quincy felt the torment behind the single word.

They had come so close. But they had failed.

When they finally reached the place where Eirik had stood with the scroll piece, Quincy saw Sophia in her cheetah form investigating the large red stains on the ground. Some of them were Tate’s blood, but the rest were all that remained of Deimos. Having been on the ground, she had missed the gruesome sight of Metis standing over the evil creature, absorbing his essence like another being would air in her lungs, until the stain was all that remained.

Squatting beside her, he touched her head and explained, “That was Deimos. Metis has assumed his form…likely so that she could get them out of here.”

Melanthe approached. With a flash of red light, she generated a pile of clothing. “Sophia,” she said in a soft voice, “I can aid you in dressing if you would like.”

When the two females moved behind a series of tall bookcases, Derian walked along with them to stand guard. Since there was no one in the library outside of them, Quincy figured this was habitual for the Mercesti. As he got to his feet, he realized everyone was standing around as though in a state of shock. He supposed they were.

Moving closer to the pedestal that he once approached while Saraqael hunted for a solution to save the love of his life, he felt transported back to that moment. He had seen a glow from the pedestal, one that caught his eye and had him lifting up the parchment he found there and reading it. It was at that moment that a bright light flashed from where Saraqael sifted through scrolls. Quincy hadn’t known it at the time, but his friend had just sealed his fate.

And in so doing, secured the futures of many others.

“This was where the scroll piece used to be,” Quincy said after a moment. He lifted a page of the large book housed there. “Eirik definitely has it now.”

He glanced up when he heard Sophia and Melanthe emerging from behind the bookcases. Just as he turned to face them, Zachariah shoved past him. With blazing red eyes, the Mercesti heaved the heavy stone pedestal with all of his strength. The book flew through the air, its brittle pages scattering like autumn leaves. Stone fell to the ground with a deafening crack.

Even as the sound careened through the library, Zachariah punched the closest bookcase, splintering the wood. Then he struck it again.

“Zachariah,” Tiege said.

The Mercesti was beyond reason, however. He reared back to strike the bookcase again, his knuckles wet with blood. Tiege reached up and grabbed the other male’s arm.

“Stop it! She wouldn’t want this.”

Using his larger size to his advantage, Zachariah shoved Tiege to the ground. Even as the Kynzesti fell, Zachariah went with him, ending up on one knee with his fist raised to strike Tiege.

“Sparky!”

That stopped him.

Quincy glanced at Sophia, who had spoken the word. She stopped next to him and took his hand, but her gaze was centered on Zachariah.

“Think about what you’re doing,” she said quietly. “You’re not honoring Tate this way.”

Zachariah released Tiege. His chest rose and fell as he caught his breath. The intensity of his gaze eased, even if his pain did not.

Staring at Sophia, he said, “Do not ever call me that again.”

She nodded. Quincy gave her hand a squeeze. Then his gaze moved back to Zachariah, who remained on one knee even as Tiege regained his feet. The Mercesti braced his left forearm on his bent knee as he reached down to touch a small pool of blood with his right hand. After a moment, he bowed his head and covered his eyes with his left hand.

With a similar devastated expression on his face, Tiege reached out to touch Zachariah’s shoulder. Seeing the gesture, Clara Kate put a comforting hand on Tiege’s arm. Fascinated, Quincy watched his elder tilt his head in consideration. After a brief hesitation, Ini-herit tentatively touched Clara Kate’s other hand. Without missing a beat, she wove her fingers with his. Sophia then reached out with her free hand to give Ini-herit a pat of appreciation for making the gesture.

Silver light flared. Quincy squinted against it, tensing as he wondered what was happening. When the brilliance of the light eased, he opened his eyes. What—or rather, who—he saw had his heart dropping into his stomach.

“
Saraqael
.”

The shimmering image of the dark-haired young man standing before them gave him a familiar smile. Sophia gasped upon hearing her grandfather’s name. Zachariah got to his feet. Everyone stared at the image with a range of emotions on their faces. Quincy realized Saraqael was dressed just like he had been the last time they were in this library…a white shirt with dark pants and knee-high boots.

“Yes, my old friend,” he said. His voice had emotion clogging Quincy’s throat. “I have a connection with this place. It is so good to see you, even under such terrible circumstances.”

“How…” Quincy trailed off, uncertain what to ask. What to say. His thoughts seized as he tried to accept what he saw.

“I am here because the six of you joined in touch and grief,” Saraqael said, looking among them. “Your connection was powerful enough, you see.”

No, Quincy didn’t see. But Saraqael had settled his gaze on Sophia. His sharp silver eyes moved to where her hand connected with Quincy’s. For the first time, Quincy worried what his best friend thought about his feelings for his granddaughter.

“Sophia,” Saraqael said with another smile. “It is nice to meet you, granddaughter.”

“Yes. Um, hello,” she replied, clearly dazed.

“Your beauty and intelligence are just staggering,” he said, bringing a blush to Sophia’s cheeks. “It makes me wonder what you see in Quincy.”