“Xyn!” Urian was nearly hysterical as he searched for his dragon.

There was no sign of her. He’d waited all night at their rendezvous, and she’d never shown. So he’d done what he wasn’t supposed to …

Come to her bower.

By the looks of it, she hadn’t been here in a long, long time. A thick layer of dust covered everything. Even the bed. And that wasn’t like her. She was a meticulous housekeeper.

This time, there were no notes. No gifts.

Nothing.

She was gone without a trace.

Without a word.

It was as if she’d never existed.

Tears blurred his vision. Sarraxyn wouldn’t do this to him. She wouldn’t.

Of all the creatures in the universe, she knew how much he needed her. That she was the one thing he relied on. His only tenderness. And if she wasn’t here and this place was in this condition, it could mean only one thing.

She was dead.

His knees buckled. Urian hit the floor as he choked on a sob. Of all the deaths, and there had been so many in his lifetime, this one was the hardest to bear. He pressed his fist to his mouth and sank his fangs into it. How could she be gone?

In that moment, he wanted to join her. Truly, he couldn’t think of a single reason not to. What was he fighting for at this point?

They had no hope of breaking this curse. Of seeing daylight. His father was a fool for even thinking it. Damned and cursed. Forever banished to darkness.

Closing his eyes, he tried not to think of the night he’d watched Geras die by the hands of a Dark-Hunter. The pain-filled look on his son’s face when he’d been unable to reach him in time. That panic and fear an instant before he’d shattered into dust.

Or Nephele, who’d gone too long without a soul.

She’d been sitting right beside him when she’d just burst apart. To this day, Urian didn’t know if she’d simply been inattentive to the signs that she needed to replenish, or if it’d been a form of suicide. If it had, she wasn’t the only Daimon to do so. It was so common, they even had a name for it—suntribó.

That moment when they just became too tired to continue. When the voices wore them down and the deaths of those around them were more than they could contend with.

When they felt just like he did right now. Life was too harsh and they just gave up.

Lifting his knees, Urian cradled his head with his arms and wept. Not for himself, but for those he loved. Gods, it hurt so much. So deep.

And he was so tired of it.

How could he hope now? The last bit of his kindness and goodness was gone.

Without her, he had nothing. He was nothing.

His body shaking, he stared with blurry vision at the dakruon that were tattooed along his hand and forearm in an intricate pattern. Black teardrops to mark the deaths of everyone he loved. There were so goddamn many.

Now there would be one more.

He drew a ragged breath as his gaze went to the phoenix on his shield. He bore that same mark on his biceps.

His totem animal. From this too, I will rise. Though he didn’t know how. He couldn’t imagine how. But he would. Xyn would be the first to kick his ass.

We are warriors.

And his dragon wouldn’t have given her heart to anything but the strongest of the strong. “You cannot break me,” he whispered. “I’m already shattered.”