This we did not plan out particularly well. Getting back together. What we were going to do once the war was finished, once Lorenzo was dead.

It’s a testament to our long lives together that somehow, we both know to go back to the one place that is just us.

A tidal wave of relief washes over me when I pull our bedroom door open and find Cyrus inside.

He has a black bag in his hand and looks like I found him packing. But the moment he sees me, he freezes, his dark green eyes meeting my yellow-green ones.

“It’s done,” I say. And I say it just a little bit as a question.

“It’s done,” Cyrus says as a confirmation. He sets the bag down and crosses the space to me. I let him wrap his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. Emotion wells in my eyes as I press my face into the crook of his neck. I cling tight to him.

I was scared for his part of the plan. He would sound the horn of retreat. But he couldn’t be seen. We couldn’t risk the Court members and Royals seeing him, smelling how human he is.

Anything could have gone wrong.

But here he is.

I feel Cyrus. I feel his heart pounding against my chest. I feel the slight tremble in his hands. I hear his shaking breaths.

He feels it, so much more powerfully than I do. That this is the end. We lost. After two thousand years of keeping this secret, now it’s ruined.

It isn’t our secret anymore, I remind myself.

“Me and you,” I say, feeling myself calm. “We’re going to be okay.”

He doesn’t even hesitate. Cyrus nods his head. “I swear, I am going to give you such a beautiful life, Logan. We’re going to be happy.”

His words push peace through all of my veins, straight to my heart.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

He knows what I mean, and I’m a little disappointed when he backs away from me slightly to look into my eyes, and I see his answer is no.

“I have one last thing to take care of, im yndmisht srtov,” he says. “I need half a day, and then we can leave this place forever.”

I nod. Even though I don’t like that idea. I want to go now. I’m ready to move on.

But I see in his eyes that whatever it is he has to do, he needs it.

“Gather our things,” he says. He takes a step away from me and goes back to that black bag. “Anything you deem is important to keep. We will leave by tonight.”

I nod. And he’s in a hurry. Because he places a kiss on my forehead, and immediately slips out the door.

Pack our things, I think to myself as I turn to our bedroom. My eyes scan the room, thinking over what I value enough to take with us.

There’s nothing. Nothing here holds any value to me. Not the safe full of expensive jewelry. Not the silk gowns. Not the expensive paintings that adorn the wall.

Except the one of Cyrus and I perhaps.

But I’ll never forget those memories. They’re all there, safe in my head, with the thousands of others.

The only thing I care about when we go out on the run is Cyrus.

As long as he and I are together, I don’t worry about any other stuff.

But as I think about the unknown, when I think about being on the run a long, long time ago as Sevan, I go to our closet. I find two bags. I fill them with clothes. Practical, normal clothes that will be easy to blend in with. I grab toiletries.

I stash the bags next to our bedroom door and go down into the armory. I grab four stakes, two for each of us, and a gun for each of us.

The war may be over, but this new world feels far from safe.

I deposit the weapons in a bag as well and go for the door.

If we’re going to disappear and start over, we’re going to need some money.

The hidden treasury, that no one knows about besides Cyrus and I, is on the fourth floor.

I swing the bedroom door open and listen. I feel so damn deaf. Once upon a few days ago, I would have been able to hear nearly everything going on from this floor down to the third. But now I can’t hear anything at all.

The castle is my home and has been for thousands of years. But for the first time, I feel scared in it.

For the first time, I’m in it as a human and I could easily be prey to the current occupants.

I slip down the hall. The first floor is the one place I have a little confidence, because no one occupies this floor except the two of us.

On the second floor, I slip down the hall of bedroom doors. I go straight for the one I know she once occupied. I don’t even knock, I just open the door and slip inside.

“What-” Grace startles from the desk pushed up against a wall. She pushes her chair back away from the computer she was working on. But the moment her eyes land on me, they widen, and study me up and down.

“You can go home now, Grace,” I say. And despite my fear, despite the tenseness in my chest, I feel myself smile. “Your services are no longer needed, and the future of this castle and everyone in it is now very uncertain.”

Grace slowly stands up, never once looking away from me.

“How?” she asks, her voice quiet and rough. “Never…” she shakes her head. “Never has anyone gotten…better once I felt death coming for them. But you…you’re free. The mark is gone.”

It fully forms on my face now. I smile. I feel myself brighten. And I know I’ll never see this woman again, and the world now knows much of what she knows, so it doesn’t really matter what I say now.

“Cyrus always promised me he would fix it,” I say. And I feel peaceful when I say the words. I say them as Sevan, but it’s like she grows tired as she says the words. Like she’s lying down for a thousand year nap. “He promised he would find a way to fix the curse. After all these years, it was his choice that set us free.”

And with those words, I feel her. Like Sevan shut her eyes, and let her self go down. After all these years, she finally is free.

Grace has no idea what I’m really talking about. But still, she nods her head, like she grasps it, just a little.

“Go home to your life, Grace,” I say, turning back toward the door. “Find someone to hold on to. Keep yourself safe in this new world.”

“Will it ever be the same?” she asks.

I hate that desperation in her eyes when she looks at me. I hate that slightly accusatory look in it. But I deserve it. We—Cyrus and Sevan did do this.

“I’m afraid not,” I answer her.

She doesn’t respond. And I’m not very good at reading people so I don’t know what she thinks of my answer. “The helicopter pilot will be on the roof waiting for you,” I say, moving on.

And with one last look, I slip out the door, never to see Grace, the predictor of death, again.

My heart rate picks up as I creep back down the hall. At the top of the stairs, I wait, pausing and listening.

I don’t hear anyone. If anyone were back at the castle, they’d be on the main floor.

So, with a daring breath of bravery, I dart down the stairs.

There is a back stairway, further in the castle. It’s the one I should be using. But I’m curious. I want to know, even though I’m terrified.

So, I take the risk.

I hardly even look around when I get to the main floor. I immediately hook around to the next set of stairs, descending down to the fourth floor.

I didn’t see anyone around. But I was also kind of too scared to look around. Fingers crossed, no one saw me.

Once I step down onto the floor of the fourth floor, I immediately head down the hall. I go past the kitchen, the meeting rooms. I set down another hall, and follow it for what feels like forever. Finally, I turn into a small room. It’s only fifteen feet by fifteen feet or so. There isn’t a single bit of furniture in it.

I go to the back of the room and press on one of the wooden floorboards. It pops up just slightly. I reach under it and find the latch. It releases, and a section of the floor lifts, revealing a door.

I check to be sure no one has followed me, and slip down into the small room beneath the floor.

It’s maybe five feet tall. It spans the width of the room above it, and the walls are lined with shelves. There are stacks of money, in just about every currency in the world. There are also bars of gold, boxes full of silver coins. There’s jewels, raw, uncut diamonds.

The castle has an official treasury, where we have a treasurer who takes care of the finances for the castle and sends out the checks monthly to all the Houses around the world.

But this stash has been personally built by Cyrus and Sevan. Saved specifically for an emergency occasion such as this.

I grab one of the bags on a shelf and begin stuffing it full of money. I grab different currencies. I fill the bag to the brim. And for good measure, because I have no idea what is to come, I grab a second bag and fill it completely full.

I really don’t know how much wealth is in this room. But I’d guestimate I have around four million dollars between the two bags.

A million doesn’t really take up all that much room. It’s kind of surprising, really. I fit roughly two million dollars in each backpack.

Considering the poverty I’ve lived my life in since I graduated high school, it’s ridiculous that I spend so much time considering if four million dollars is enough to get Cyrus and I by for the rest of our newly gained mortal lives.

In the end it comes down to the fact that I can’t really carry any more than this. It’ll have to do. So I zip the bags up, climb back up to the actual floor, lock the treasury back up, and sneak back out toward the hall.

Now I can hear voices coming from up above.

Some I recognize. Most I don’t. But there are cries of pain. Cries of shock. Angry voices discuss the state of the world. Others talk gleefully about the eradication of Lorenzo’s children.

I hear talk of them finding Lorenzo’s body staked to a tree when they came home.

Mina has a touch of flair when she wants to.

But there are fearful talks about where Cyrus and I are.

They wonder about who blew the horn to retreat, thereby allowing the Austrian army to take out the children of Lorenzo.

Where is the King? Who else could have blown that horn?

Where is Sevan?

Everyone has a million questions. But I can’t answer them. I can’t let them see me.

Our time has passed.

I take the back stairs, the ones deep in the castle that are infrequently used. Silently, I slip past the main level and I slip into the shadows on the second.

I listen. Cyrus and I might be done with this world and the way it is. But I still care about these people. I still want to know.

They do a count. Where we were once just over four hundred members at Court, there are only 153 left. There had been approximately fifty-four Royals who came to Roter Himmel to fight in the war. Only twenty survived.

That is what chokes my throat.

There are 108 Royals around the world. Fifty-four showed up to aide the crown. Exactly half. And exactly half ignored our call for help.

But it doesn’t matter now.

I didn’t think things could get worse.

But they do.

Those still alive line up the dead.

I watch as they carry his body through the doors. As they lay him down on the floor among the dead.

Malachi.

The last of our grandsons.

The last champion of the old world.

I cry alone in the dark. Tears slip down my face. They roll off my cheeks in heavy sheets.

My grandson. The man who was so focused and smart. The one who allied himself with world leaders and human Royalty. But he never let it go to his head. His ambitions were only for the safety of his kind.

Malachi was loyal to the end.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

No one in this castle can hear me. But I hope that Malachi can.

I can hardly breathe. I’m filled with so much sadness. I’m cracked with pain and fear. Everything is wrong. Everything has changed.

Through my grief though, there is a little voice that whispers: I have a future. It’s totally different from what I imagined. But it is just my luck. It’s not easy and pretty.

But I’ve still got Cyrus.

And across the world, I have a little brother that I promised I would return for when this war was over.

I think through, if there is anyone I should say goodbye to, here. But there isn’t anyone, now that Dorian and Malachi are gone. They all might be family, but not in the same way.

I’m free.

Silently, I return to our bedroom. I lock the door behind me, and put the bags of money on the floor beside the others.

Exhausted, I lie on the bed, pulling my cell phone out. I text Eshan first.

War is over here. World has gone to shit, but we beat the bad guys. I’m coming back for you sometime in the next few days.

Next I text Elle. I’ll be back for my brother in the next few days. Thank you so much for taking care of him.

It’s the middle of the night in Boston. I don’t expect a response right away.

So I lay my phone on the nightstand. I curl into a ball, pushing out every thought and fear for the future.

And I fall asleep.