Rayner watched the ship until it disappeared beyond the clouds far above his mountain. He stood in the middle of the deck with his heart at his feet for a long moment after it was gone. She’d hate him or, worse, think he didn’t love her enough to go with her. If hating him made it easier to accept, then he could deal with that.

But he had to stay. For the people fighting below him. For his mother. For the clan that he loved, even though it had tried to rip everything in the world away from him.

He turned and found the deck empty. Gerrit and Nestan must have already been on the other side of the double doors, preparing to help settle the revolt. Rayner strode over, his head bowed, and jaw clenched.

A hollow ache spread out deep in his gut. He had no illusions that it would disappear anytime soon.

He crossed through the double doors and looked up, surprised to find the hall brighter.

He froze in his tracks.

Gerrit and Nestan were on their knees, knives at their throats. Behind them, Vilkas stood, staring at him with dark eyes and unkempt hair. For a second, he thought the guards had caught them. Then the group split, and Savas sauntered through, hauling a stumbling Kaveh by his frail, thin arm.

Gerrit thrashed against his captor. They weren’t guards at all, but Savas’s loyalists. A deep well of blood seeped down Gerrit’s neck where the blade had cut him.

“What the hell is this?” Rayner asked, voice quiet. Steady. Calm. He dragged his eyes back to Savas.

The Omega threw Kaveh to the ground in front of Gerrit and Nestan. Rayner flinched from an ingrained reflex to protect his Alpha. Behind Kaveh, a loyalist ripped Nestan’s head back and stabbed his dagger into Nestan’s shoulder. The young man growled, hissing and half laughing as the loyalist twisted the blade before yanking it out and returning it to Nestan’s neck.

“Better behave,” Savas scolded him, wagging his finger at Rayner like he was an errant child.

“You don’t want to do this, Savas. It’s not worth it.”

Savas laughed darkly. He lifted his chin toward the open doors behind Rayner. “Was that worth it? Sending your little bitch high into the sky?”

“Yes,” Rayner said. “She’s far away from you. That’s all that matters.”

“You present a good point. If she’d been here, I wouldn’t have been able to control myself. Something about that fiery spirit makes me want to,” Savas said and breathed in deep, a smile spreading across his face. “stamp it out. Break her. Tear her apart in all her softest places. No, you were right to save her, Rayner. You always were the smart one.”

Kaveh had pushed his weak body to his knees. He looked around, his tired, weak eyes taking in the scene. Savas put his hand on his brother’s head, stroking his hair even as he drew a knife made from obsidian and Hylan glass filed to the thinnest, sharpest edge Rayner had ever seen.

“You don’t need to do this,” Nestan begged. The loyalist holding him tightened his fist in Nestan’s wild hair, making his head crane farther back.

Savas turned as if surprised to hear his son’s voice. He laughed. “Son, you have never understood the true nature of power. It’s not that which is given to you, but that which you take. I tried to teach you, but you’ve chosen the wrong side this time. I will deal with your disloyalty later.”

Kaveh mumbled something. Savas smacked his half-brother’s cheek with an easy swing of his arm. The Alpha crumbled to the ground.

“Father!” Gerrit screamed, thrashing again and sending more and more blood down his neck. Two more loyalists came over to help hold him down.

The clarity that had been missing from the Alpha came into his face as Savas dragged him back to his knees. The frail man glanced around, his eyes on Rayner before finding Gerrit. “Why are you bleeding?”

“I’m fine,” Gerrit said, voice thick. “I’m fine, Dad. You’re okay. It’s going to be okay.”

Kaveh began to tremble. “What’s happening, Gerrit?”

“Only what’s been coming your way for over thirty years, old man,” Savas hissed.

The knife flashed in the air, and Rayner reacted. In the second it took him to shift, to leap out of his skin, Savas dragged his knife across the Alpha’s throat, cutting deep enough that, as Kaveh slumped to the ground, Rayner’s Vilkan eyes saw bone.

He roared. The ripping sound crashed into the screaming and shouting. Bones cracked and Vilkas shifted.

Rayner bore down on Savas. The rest of the action faded into his periphery, but he caught sight of Gerrit and Nestan fighting the loyalists.

Rayner launched himself at Savas. The man’s grin was wild, his skin covered in blood. His time as Omega had left him thinner, but not slower. Knowing exactly how Rayner would react, Savas lunged to the side, rolling and shifting. Before Rayner had even turned around, Savas was bounding through the doors and onto the flight deck.

Rayner followed. His claws dug deep into the rock, his eyes locked on Savas’s haunches. The Omega swung around and swiped razor-sharp claws at Rayner’s snout.

He ducked and bowled into Savas, their bodies rolling paws over tail. Behind them, the loyalists spilled out onto the deck, following their leader, knowing their only escape from the fight would be down the side of the mountain. Gerrit and Nestan raced after them, taking some down and snapping their necks without even shifting.

Rayner flipped Savas over him and spun around, ready to strike.

How many times had Rayner and Savas sparred as young Vilkas? How many times had they fought, wrestling deep in the servant tunnels when Savas’s mother had been chased away from the donjon and relegated to slave status?

Too many times. They knew each other too well.

Where Rayner held back, reluctant to attack an opponent on his back, Savas did not. He moved like a snake, whipping upright, claws slashing.

Rayner had nowhere to go.

He reared back. Savas narrowly missed Rayner’s exposed throat. But his claws sank deep into Rayner’s chest, dragging down to his belly as Rayner fell.

He felt the wrongness instantly.

The cold swept in quick.

A roar filled the air above them. Rayner rolled onto his side just in time to see the flash of scales overhead.

Draqons.

Savas spun, his eyes on the sky. He howled to his clan.

Rayner shifted with the last bit of energy he had left. He didn’t bother looking up. With his hand, he tried to hold in the blood pouring from his belly. He gathered his legs beneath him and tried to stand.

He would have collapsed if not for Gerrit catching him. As arrows pelted the deck, connecting with Savas’s loyalists’ flesh, and acid splashed, the young heir hauled Rayner toward the ebonite doors. He was screaming something at Rayner, something urgent, something important, but Rayner could hear nothing but the ringing in his ears.

Gerrit dumped Rayner onto the ground inside the mountain and whirled around to help Nestan. But he was already running toward them with his father’s fanatics snapping at his heels. He’d shifted into his human form, and even as Rayner’s vision dimmed around the edges, he saw the blood coating Nestan.

“Run!” Gerrit shouted, standing at the doors, his eyes to the sky as a Draqon dove down and bowled over nearly ten loyalists. Its mate twisted on the creature’s great back and shot an arrow straight at Gerrit.

He ducked, the poisoned tip narrowly missing him.

Both he and Rayner looked up in time to see Nestan swerving toward them. He limped, barely running, with too many men behind him. They’d never be able to fight them back, not with the Draqons circling outside.

“Get in!” Gerrit shouted and took position at the doors, ready to close them as soon as Nestan slid inside.

But Nestan didn’t slide inside. He hit the doors at full speed and slammed them inward. Gerrit stumbled back, his shock momentarily paralyzing him as he fell beside Rayner on the ground.

“No!” he roared, but it was too late.

Nestan shut the doors with the impact of his body, locking Rayner and Gerrit inside. They heard the bodies hit the door, hit Nestan. Shouts and howls filled the air. Wind from the Draqons’ wings buffeted the doors against their autolocks.

Gerrit trembled. He stumbled to his feet, an arm stretched toward the door, but he didn’t unlock them or open them. To do so would have been instant death. And Nestan had made his choice.

Gerrit’s arm dropped. He turned back to Rayner, and in his eyes, Rayner saw that the young heir was forever changed. His hopeful innocence was gone. As he listened to his best friend war against his father’s loyalists and the Draqons, a bit of Gerrit died.

Rayner slumped back against the ground and looked up at the crisscrossing light of the ceiling. He closed his eyes and saw Vera’s face, the betrayal in her eyes, the heartbreak.

The blackness swamped him, and he saw nothing else.