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Hate is the reason I’m here.

The reason I willfully blackened my soul in an effort to save her—only to watch the whole thing backfire—unable to do anything but watch as the dream played out before me.

And just like the dream—I was too late to save her.

“I love a good irony, don’t you?” Cade cocks his head, leans down to pet his ghastly coyote. “Did you see the way she looked at you? Did you see that delicious mixture of shock, revulsion, and grief when she realized what you’d done, what you allowed yourself to become, in an effort to defeat me?”

I stagger forward, my head growing increasingly dizzy, my vision fuzzy and blurry. Fighting like hell to steady myself—to erase the scene he paints in my mind, refusing to remember Daire in that way.

“Not to be rude, but I’m pretty sure it’s quick to become my most favorite memory reel. Such tragedy! Such folly!” He throws his head back and laughs, emitting a sound as sick and monstrous as he is. Encouraging Coyote to point his snout in the air and let loose a long, plaintive howl, the racket they make an unwelcome disruption in a land returning to peace. He quiets himself, returning to me when he says, “To watch you purposely become the very thing that you hate, in an utterly foolish, and completely misguided effort to kill me—only to have that same transformation serve as the very thing that keeps you from her … It’s priceless. Made to order. Too good to be true. I couldn’t have dreamed it any better!” He indulges himself in a fit of amusement, before he turns to me and says, “Don’t you know—you don’t attract what you want, brother? You attract what you are. Figured someone like you would’ve known that.”

I press my hand to my neck, my fingers coming away slick and red. “You’ll pay for this!” I gasp. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Doubtful,” Cade says. “After all, you’re the one bleeding, not me. You’re the one who lost his fated one. Time to face reality, brother. Even if she was alive when she left here, she’s most likely dropped her robe by now. Isn’t that how your pal Leftfoot would describe it—a disrobing of the body?” He pauses long enough to smirk and roll his eyes. “Anyway, bro, I’ve no doubt she’s dead on arrival. Next time we’ll see her is on the Day of the Dead, when she’s forced to pay her respects to the Bone Keeper. And I think we both know Leandro will forgive me well before then. He’s always favored me. Has plenty to learn from me, whether he wants to admit it or not. In the end, this is no more than a speed bump—my life remains right on course. While yours, on the other hand, is anything but.” He gestures toward my bleeding, wounded neck. “You know that’s going to leave a scar, right? Yet another way they’ll be able to tell us apart. When you think about it, it’s really quite funny—the more you tried to become like me, the more you set yourself apart. If anyone failed tonight, brother, it’s you.”

I allow my eyes to drift closed, relishing the reprieve. But it’s only a second later when they’re open again, and I’m wiping my bloodied hands over my jeans. Gazing around a world returning to its former beauty, knowing it’s Daire’s doing.

The legacy she left us.

The least I can do is make sure it continues.

Cade’s right.

He’s not suffering. Has never known a single moment of it.

I’m the one who lost everything.

Took a risk by gambling my soul—only to lose it along with everything else that meant something to me.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t turn it around—make things right once again.

That doesn’t mean I can’t make one last bid at redemption.

I heave a shallow, ragged breath, hoping it’ll fortify enough to sustain me. Allow me to do what’s most needed.

Then I stare at the spot near Cade’s feet—willing it to me, but it seems my magick has abandoned me.

Left with no choice, I make the leap and dive toward him. Watching as he dances out of my reach. Wrongly assuming I’m diving after him.

But I’m not.

Not by a long shot.

There’s only one way to make up for what I’ve done.

Only one way to remedy all the wretchedness and ruin the Richters have wrought.

I reach for Daire’s athame—the one Cade used against her, still wet with her blood—and grasp hold of the hilt.

Only one way to end this—and I’m the only one willing to do it.

I raise the blade high, my gaze never once leaving Cade’s as I say, “Turns out, you were right all along. We’re connected in ways I never would’ve imagined.”

Reveling in the mix of horror and understanding that crosses his face.

Frantically lunging, though the move comes too late.

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