“Is that the last of them?” my mother asked.

“From what we can see,” my father replied.

“What about Rhys?” Micah asked.

Aiden shook his head. “I haven’t seen him.”

Then Magnus—Kiev—called out: “Has anyone seen Mona?”

Chapter 30: Mona

As I raced with Kiev down from the rocks, the only person on my mind was Rhys. Wanting to avoid clashing with any other witch or warlock, I dodged in and out of the battle in search of him. When I had been watching the scene from the air as Kiev stabbed Lilith, the warlock had been near the pool. But I could see from where I was standing that he was not there now.

I suspected that he might have blacked out somewhere. He’d been the most dependent on Lilith for his powers of all of us—more than me, Julisse or even Isolde—so it would be no surprise if he was still unconscious. I wanted to find him before he came to.

Finally, I did. A long form cast in shadow lay close to one side of the castle. He was lying flat on his back, his pale face set in a deep frown.

When I first laid eyes on him, I wondered for a moment whether he was even still living. But it soon became apparent to me that he was. His lips were parted and he breathed gently.

I bent down over him and touched his forehead. It wouldn’t be difficult to finish him off now if I wanted to. I didn’t even need to use magic. I could just reach for the knife tucked into my belt that I’d retrieved from Kiev.

But I couldn’t bring myself to. I’d already experienced the aftermath of self-disgust that came with killing a person in their sleep. I wasn’t about to do it again—not even with Rhys.

Keeping my fingers against his skin, I surged energy into his body and jolted him awake.

His eyelids flickered open and he sat up. He looked shocked as he pushed himself back away from me and shot to his feet.

I took in the deep lines in his face. The dark shadows beneath his eyes. The sallowness of his skin. He looked nothing like the man I had known only months ago.

I couldn’t even bring myself to feel anger toward him. All I felt was sadness, and a sense of loss for the life he could have chosen.

When he motioned to raise his arms, I shook my head.

“Let’s not end things like this, Rhys. The game is over. Just give it up.”

My words only seemed to aggravate him as he took a step closer to me and grabbed my jaw.

I didn’t flinch as he glared down at me, nor even when heat started surging through his hand into my body.

“Please,” I said. “Stop.” I reached a hand up to his face. He flinched at my touch, then tightened his grip around me and pinned me against the castle wall, his hands moving down to my throat.

“I know what you did,” I choked. Even though I knew he could snap my neck with the strength of his muscles alone, I still refused to feel intimidated by him. “Back in The Shade… you saved me from the fire, didn’t you? How else would I have ended up on a boat in the middle of a lake?”

His eyes narrowed. But he refused to answer my question. Instead, he let go of me and blasted me backward with a spell. I found myself falling from the battleground and landing on the rocks beneath. Fortunately, the rocks my back hit were partially submerged in the water and had sea flora growing over them, which helped to soften the impact.

Groaning, I forced myself to sit up.

Okay, then. If this is how you want to play it…

As soon as I caught sight of him appearing on the rocks above me, I cast a spell that knocked him from his feet and brought him crashing down on the ground a short distance from me.

He climbed to his feet, blood flowing from a cut in his lower lip.

“What do you have to gain by continuing to fight us?” I said. “Where do you go from here? Take a look at yourself in a mirror, for God’s sake. You look like a ghost.”

I narrowly dodged another spell from him before shooting one at him myself. With each spell that I let loose, my body felt weaker and weaker. The lack of strength was alarming. I was used to being so powerful I could take on a dozen white witches at once. Now I doubted that I would even be able to take on Corrine alone.

As we continued to blast each other with spells, it became apparent that he too was feeling the strain. His curses were beginning to do less damage each time one hit me. Finally, the spells that hit me barely caused more discomfort than a prickle.

Realizing the futility of attacking me with spells, he reached for his belt and pulled out a ceremonial dagger, the same one I’d seen him holding earlier before the ritual. Even as we circled each other, I couldn’t help but notice how strange it was. Rhys and I, among the most powerful witches of our time, were now fighting with less grace than even vampires.

I could see the shame of it in Rhys’ eyes. The humiliation. I knew the pride he took in his magic—it was the only thing he lived for. He had always chosen it over me, even when he’d claimed to love me. He loved magic even more than he loved himself.

I didn’t stand a chance against him physically. He was taller, stronger and more skilled in combat. The only thing that had made the match even slightly fair before was the fact that I could wield magic.

Still, I wasn’t going to run from him.

This was a battle I had to fight alone.

As he closed in on me, I wondered whether he had it in him to kill me this time. Although he wouldn’t admit to it, I knew he’d saved me from the burning tree. And that day when he and his army had attacked The Shade, he’d avoided killing me then even though it would have been easy. He’d had me tied up in a tree. He could have done anything he wanted to me. But he hadn’t.