“Ember.”

I turned. Dante stood a few feet away, watching me with eyes glowing green in the darkness. Behind him, the labyrinth of crates hovered at the edge of the light, looming and ominous, casting Dante in their jagged shadow.

“Traitor,” he whispered.

I growled, curling my lips back from my fangs. I didn’t know when I’d Shifted forms, but tongues of fire licked at my teeth as I snarled and half opened my wings, facing my brother down. “You’re one to talk,” I said, my voice echoing weirdly off the rafters. “I thought we were leaving Talon together, but you had no intention of coming with me, did you? You were going to tell Lilith where I was all along.”

He didn’t respond and I slumped, tail and wings drooping, while my twin watched me without expression. “You lied to me, Dante,” I said, feeling the cold flood of regret douse the flames within. “I thought I could trust you, but you sold me out to Talon.”

“I did no such thing.” Dante’s voice was calm, though his eyes narrowed to shining green slits. “You were the one who betrayed us, Ember. When you left with that rogue.” He slipped away, his voice growing faint as he faded into the black. “You made the call. It was your choice to leave, to abandon everything we had worked for. Sixteen years of preparation, gone in an instant. You walked out on Talon, and you walked out on me.”

“Dante, wait.”

He didn’t stop but vanished into the darkness, the echo of his footsteps fading to nothing. Calling out, I started after him, but the shadows closed in, and everything went black.

* * *

Wincing, I opened my eyes.

I lay on the floor in a room I didn’t recognize, curled up on something soft. It took only a second to realize I was in dragon form, lying in a nest of blankets, and this had been a bedroom at one point, because a bed and a dresser had been shoved up against the far wall. Apart from those two pieces of furniture, the room was unnaturally empty. No clothes on the floor, no pictures or posters hanging from the walls, nothing to give the room personality. It seemed to have been empty a long time.

My thoughts swirled sluggishly, like they were trapped in glue. I blinked hard, trying to focus as I raised my head, waiting for my vision to clear. What had happened to me? The last thing I remembered was flying away from something, and a sudden jolt to my side, like I’d been hit with a hammer. I didn’t remember passing out, but I must have, because everything after that was a blur. How much time had elapsed since then? I wondered.

And where am I now?

Cautiously, I looked around, trying to get a sense of where I was, and froze.

A body was slumped in a chair a few feet away, sitting against the wall with his arms crossed and his eyes closed. Even through the confusion and sleep haze, I knew it was Garret.

My stomach tightened, and memory came back in a rush. I remembered everything that had brought me here; infiltrating the St. George base with Riley, freeing Garret, fleeing across the wasteland with the soldier on my back. There was also one very hazy memory of a voice that sounded exactly like Garret’s, telling me to lie down, but that might’ve been from a dream.

But I wasn’t dreaming now, and the soldier was here, in the very same room. Sunlight slanted through the blinds over the windows, glinting off his pale hair, painting bright bars over his clothes. He wore faded jeans and a white T-shirt, and in sleep, he appeared younger than he was. Less a hardened soldier and more like a normal teen. Like the Garret I’d known in Crescent Beach. Before he became St. George, the enemy, a soldier who had killed dragons his whole life.

I rose carefully, trying to be silent as I sat up, but Garret was either just dozing or a really light sleeper, for his eyes shot open as soon as I moved. Piercing metallic-gray pupils met mine across the room.

“Ember.”

His voice made me shiver, low and soft with relief. Carefully, as if trying not to make any sudden moves, he stood, his expression teetering between wary and hopeful. “You’re awake,” he breathed. “Are you all right?”

“I…think so.” I stood slowly, bracing myself for pain. There was a dull ache in my side as I moved, but nothing sharp or stabby, which was a relief. Cautiously, I eased myself upright, craning my neck, curling and uncurling my talons, testing muscles. Except for the subtle but persistent ache in my side, everything seemed to be working fine. I took a breath and let it out slowly. “Looks like I’m all here. What happened?”

“You were shot,” Garret said quietly. “When we were running from St. George. We brought you here, and Wes managed to dig the slug out, but it was touch and go for a while.”

“What do you mean?”

His gaze flicked to my side, where the ache was coming from. “You nearly died, Ember,” he whispered. “We didn’t know how serious it was until we got here. You lost a lot of blood, and if the bullet had gone a few inches to the left…it would’ve struck your heart.”

“Oh,” I said, as the gravity of that statement sank in. “Really?”

He nodded, his face tightening. “That first night,” he said in a curiously choked voice, “I didn’t know if you were going to make it. You didn’t move the entire time, not to eat, or Shift, or anything. Riley said that…that you had gone into hibernation, that when the dragon body takes a lot of damage, it slows to almost nothing and falls into a near coma until it can heal itself. I had no reason to doubt him, but…you were so still. You’ve been out for three days, and I couldn’t even tell if you were breathing or not.”

“Hey.” I stepped toward him, slowly, knowing I was still in dragon form and not wanting to make him nervous. “It’s all right. Look.” I half opened my wings, casting a dark shadow over the walls and floor. “I’m okay,” I said, offering a smile. “I’m still here.”

He gazed at me with an expression that made my heart turn over, before his eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “You shouldn’t have come,” he said, sounding almost angry now. I blinked and reared back in surprise as he turned on me. “Back at St. George. You shouldn’t have risked it. You don’t know what you’ve done, what the Order will do to your kind now. St. George won’t let this stand. Word of the break-in has probably reached London. Every chapterhouse in the region will be looking for you. You’ll never be safe.”

I lashed my tail, nearly knocking over a lamp on the dresser. “Guess next time I’ll just stand back and let you be shot to death.”




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