“Lydia!”

The sound of Daederich’s voice splintered what was left of my sanity. I tried to shut him out, refusing to give Cyrus another way to torture me. Daederich wasn’t my hero anymore. I wasn’t sure he ever had been.

Maybe that was why I’d lost faith in him. Because I’d seen him as a hero.

He was only a man.

A man I needed now, but he wouldn’t come for me. Even if he could find me, he’d go to his son first. Whatever doubts I had, I never questioned his love for Alrik. He had to know Cyrus might find the boy. He wouldn’t risk it.

“Lydia, wake up.”

“Don’t…” I sobbed as all that was familiar about him surrounded me. His scent, rain on a cool breeze, the heat of the desert, strong coffee and cinnamon and everything that came with freedom. His touch, warm and firm, one my body welcomed.

And the way he said my name. That was the most painful of all. That Cyrus had figured out how deep that sound would cut truly meant he’d reached so far inside me, I had no defenses left. I hadn’t even known my own name until Daederich had said it for the first time. He’d helped build me up from nothing.

“Please…please don’t.” I trembled, the things moving around me hardly affecting me anymore. I’d take them over Cyrus destroying all the good that remained.

My memories of Daederich had been tainted. I didn’t know what was real anymore. But I could still find comfort in what had been so long as I didn’t let Cyrus take that from me and warp it into another tool to cut me deeper.

“Listen to me.” Daederich’s tone was hard, breaking past the threatening creak of the building pinning me down, past the urgent whispers of Cyrus and Rosali. “I’m here. I’m really here. And I won’t let him have you. I can feel him in your mind, his thoughts, Rosali’s, are like chains holding you down. You have to break those chains, Lydia. Find your way back to me.”

“You can’t be here.” I shook my head. Not the one in the coffin. Not the one pinned under the wreckage of the mansion. The sensations were disorienting, coming at me on different levels, all tangible in my mind, almost as though my reality had fractured into pieces and I was living them all. “You’re free. Alrik needs you. You know that. You would go to him.”

Daederich’s fingers dug into my jaw. “The hunters have him. For Elah, they made sure he was safe before they even came for us. Elah trusted them and so do I.”

“Elah’s dead.” One reality came into focus. I could see Daederich’s face. But the pain hadn’t lessened. The pressure of the creatures filling the coffin still surrounded me. My eyes burned as I fought to claw to the surface, above the visions I could feel. “Elah’s dead and I saved Cyrus. I don’t know why. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Daederich held my gaze, his blue-grey eyes centering me.

“You’re a woman who gave up a life she’d barely begun to live for a little boy she hardly knew. A fighter who faced death again and again and never surrendered, even though it would have been easier than dealing with the pain. You are someone whose passionate about every single experience, who saw so much hope for the future, even though all you’d known was suffering.” Daederich raked his fingers through my hair and rested his forehead against mine. “Freedom is something so many take for granted, but you couldn’t, because it was new. And you showed me a different side of the world. One that was worth saving. I’d thought I’d done enough. Once I was out of that cell, I might have retreated from everything, but you gave me a purpose.”

I reached for him and he took my hand, his touch dragging me away from the infested grave, from the burned remains of a body that wasn’t mine. Away from Cyrus.

Fingers laced with his, I tightened my grip until it hurt, afraid I’d fall back in if I let go. “Cyrus… I wanted him dead, but then something changed. I couldn’t kill him.”

“Look at him now.”

Glancing back at the bed, I saw Cyrus lying there, his wounds slowly healing now that Rosali had released him. His black hair was tangled, his skin smeared with dirt and blood, his cheeks gaunt as though he’d been starved for weeks. All the elegance, all the danger, had been reduced to the shell of a man, brought low by his own obsessions.

His power over me had faded away.

But I could still sense him in my mind, his thoughts as clear as my own. I could never leave him. He’d find me, no matter how far I tried to run. With every touch, I’d feel him. I’d see him every time I closed my eyes.

“Get her out of here.” A familiar voice came from the doorway. I blinked as I saw Jase, the young man I’d chosen that night with Cyrus.

Dressed like a hunter, his expression cold, Jase pulled out a sword and approached the bed.

I stood, blocking him. “No.”

Jase made an irritated sound and grabbed my shoulder. “I don’t have time for this.”

Knocking his hand away, I leaned in close, gritting my teeth. “You’ll fucking make time. You weren’t who I thought you were, but I still tried to protect you from him. And you returned the favor by drugging me.”

He stared at me and his arrogant demeanor faltered. “I did that to spare you.”

“I didn’t need you to spare me. I needed you to show up ten minutes earlier, before Elah was cut down on that stage.” My eyes narrowed at his cold look. He was a damn good actor. I never would have guessed he was a hunter when I’d seen him that night. He hadn’t seemed like an egotistical bastard then. And now, I didn’t have the patience to deal with their damn superiority complex. “Give me the fucking sword.”

His lips parted, and he glanced over at Daederich. Then sighed and handed me the sword.

The weight of the weapon in my hand shut down the part of me that didn’t want Cyrus to die. I stood over him, every moment he’d taken from me playing out like an old film in my mind. Stilted, distorted, all scars inside my skull torn open.

“What do you want from me?”

Cyrus wound the length of my hair around his hand, and, yanking back hard, drew a shocked cry from my throat. “Nothing right now, my dear. Actually, your survival depends on his reaction.”

I swung the sword. Blood sprayed up into my face. Thick. Cold.

“I think you must like pain.”

Metal shackles around my wrists, my head still throbbing from his fist hitting me, I met Cyrus’s eyes. “Pain is a sign that you’re still alive.”

Cyrus selected a long, serrated blade and held it up, lips curving as he looked it over. “Or something that makes you wish you weren’t.”

The sword came down again and again. I screamed, stabbing, slicing, fighting those old battles in a way I couldn’t before. The chains had forced me to endure everything, but they were gone. All of them, even the ones that couldn’t be seen.

“You would have been worth keeping.”

Mary fell to the floor, clutching the dagger Cyrus had stabbed her with. Barely more than a child, thrown in the cage with me and Daederich, killed when she’d served her purpose.

Tears joined the blood on my face. I brought the sword to Cyrus’s throat. I’d hacked at his body, but he wasn’t dead. His blue eyes met mine and I couldn’t look away.

His lips moved, but no sound came. Blood filled his mouth, trickling over his chin.

Daederich came up behind me, standing close, but not touching me. He spoke softly, no emotion in his tone. “Finish it. He’s taken enough from you. Don’t waste another second on him.”

Simple, but almost as though it shouldn’t be. I lifted the sword. Sliced down so hard the blade cut through the mattress. My grip slipped and I fell to my knees. The light in Cyrus’s eyes died, but I didn’t believe this was the end.

“Silly little girl. You must feel very brave, very noble. I thought you were smarter than that.”

“He’s dead, Lydia.” Daederich put his hand on my shoulder, his touch hesitant, as though he thought I might pull away. “It’s done.”

I shook my head. “We have to burn him. I won’t believe it’s over until there’s nothing left of him.” I inhaled roughly, letting out a weak laugh. “Maybe once I scatter his ashes I won’t see him in my head anymore. I won’t hear him. Won’t feel him. Won’t…” I blinked fast, hugging myself. “He’s still inside me. I wish I could forget again.” Swallowing hard, I glanced over my shoulder at Daederich. “You could make me forget.”

He inclined his head. “I probably could, but you deserve to remember. Look at him, Lydia. Think of how many countless lives he’s ruined. Think of Mary, of Elah. Of my son. You swore you’d make him pay for what he’s done. And now you have.”

Looking back at Cyrus’s body, something inside me went still. The thing on the bed was nothing. Severed limbs, a headless corpse. Powerless. I’d dreamed of seeing Cyrus like this. Not by my hand, I never thought I’d be strong enough. I’d always imagined Daederich would kill him. Or Elah.

But it had been me. Alone.

Jase strode across the room, grabbing a bottle of vodka off the dresser. He tossed it to me, a grim smile on his lips. “I’m impressed, I didn’t think you’d do it. But I still want to watch him burn.”

I smirked at him, but didn’t comment. He’d only been at Cyrus’s mercy once and it still messed with him. I’d pity him if he wasn’t being such an insufferable jerk. He had no idea how lucky he was. Still, I didn’t need to rub it in.

Uncapping the bottle, I took a swig, then emptied the rest over the bed. Jase handed me a pack of matches. I lit one and dropped it on the center of Cyrus’s chest, backing as the flames flared up.

We stood silently, watching him burn until nothing could be seen through the blaze but his bones The fire reached the curtains, quickly spreading.

Daederich took my hand. “We can return for the ashes if you want.”

Shaking my head, I drew away from him. I couldn’t let him in. Not yet. I needed to keep my guard up until I knew I wasn’t reacting on raw emotion. “I don’t need them. This was enough. Rosali’s still alive. I almost want to leave her there to suffer, but I’m not taking any chances.”

Jaw hardening, Daederich inclined his head. “Do you want me to join you, or would you rather go alone with Jase.”

“Doesn’t make a difference either way.” I turned my back on him, fighting to remain detached. He was right. I needed to remember. Everything. “So long as it’s done.”