The same TL sneaks up behind Killian, intent on harm. I have a split second to make a decision. Stop the TL and save Killian, betraying my people yet again, or let Killian take the blow and pray he recovers.

    No contest. I spin in front of Killian, my swords lifted and ready. Come what may. I love him. Enemy or not, I will protect him. I will fight for him until my dying breath.

    I will do what’s right even when others do me wrong. Saving him is right. Helping him—helping others like him—is right. If my people die, they will end up in the Rest. Happier. If Killian dies, we don’t know where he’ll go. I won’t risk a trip to Many Ends, where he’ll be trapped.

    The TL pauses, unwilling to harm me.

    “It’s okay, lass.” Killian pulls me to his side. “It’s okay.”

    He is willing to take a killing blow simply to stop me from hurting one of my own people? An act he knows I’ll abhor.

    My heart constricts. This boy...he is so precious to me. He is precious, period.

    I haven’t forgotten my goal. Stop the war—save my enemies—one at a time.

    In a show of unity, Sloan takes a post at my other side. I marvel. The girl who killed me is willing to die to save me.

    The TL backs up, but others have spotted Killian the mighty Troikan-slayer, seducer of humans, a prize among prizes.

    There’s no way we can block them all.

    Two TLs leap at Killian. Guided by the Grid, I summon a beam of Light. It rockets in my direction and catches me around the torso and ankles, yanking me flat. I hover, horizontal, a block to both Killian and Sloan.

    A sword cuts through my rib cage, another through my thigh. A deluge of pain. I gnash my teeth. At least Killian and Sloan are safe.

    Realizing they’ve hurt their Conduit, both soldiers drop to their knees.

    Killian bellows with horror and rage—rage he then focuses on those responsible for my injuries.

    “I will murder you for this,” he hisses, taking aim.

    “No,” I grate. “Don’t hurt them. Please.” The beam gently lowers me to the ground. “Don’t...hurt...stop...war...” Breathing is becoming more difficult, my lungs constricting, my throat burning. “Please.”

    Concern for me must outweigh the need to avenge me, because Killian doesn’t shoot. He bends down to pick me up and clutches me close to his chest.

    TLs reach for me, determined to wrench me from the arms of their enemy. Sloan beats them back, as fierce as a shark that has scented blood.

    “She is mine.” Killian’s heart pounds against my temple, and it comforts me, lulls me. But we aren’t in Shells, and contact is painful.

    I swallow a whimper. He hangs on to me, carrying me through the battle.

    “Dior...” I say. “Javier.”

    “Your team is winning the battle, lass, and mine are retreating. The humans will be left in the care of their TLs, perhaps even moved to a new location before I finish this sentence. But you...” Killian growls low in his throat.

    “Love you, too...almost died before...” I mean to tell him I recovered then, and I’ll recover now. This? This is nothing. But my body shuts down, the frigid cold too much, icicles filling my throat.

    Darkness blankets my mind.

    chapter twenty-four

* * *

    “With violence, you ensure victory. With kindness, you welcome betrayal.”

    —Myriad

    Warm rays of Light drift through me. Remembering how Meredith stored precious beams throughout the Grid to be used whenever needed, I do the same, filling up room after room. When I finish, no more doors before me, I open my eyes...and find I’m centered in a beam of bright sunlight.

    I stretch with languid satisfaction. Memories flood me, and I go still. The battle...taking blows meant for Killian and Sloan...no one else willing to embrace peace...being carried out of the danger zone.

    With a gasp, I jolt upright.

    My swords are beside me, and I snatch them up, ready to...swim? I’m surrounded by water, sand and banana trees rather than armies at war.

    In the trees, limbs and leaves shake as monkeys climb. Overhead, birds soar. Normal monkeys and birds. This is not Many Ends.

    Salt scents the warm breeze and strokes me. All of me. I’ve been stripped to my bra, panties and two necklaces. My vial of manna is empty. Killian must have poured the contents down my throat and cut away my clothes.

    I can’t really complain about my seminakedness. I think I needed sunlight as much as manna. There isn’t a scratch or bruise on me. I’m healed.

    A few feet away from me, sitting pretty in his Shell, crystal waves lapping at his feet, is my rescuer. He’s lost in thought, staring into the distance.

    Love for him is undeniable and inescapable.

    I’ve been fascinated with him since our first meeting. Over the ensuing weeks, as I got to know him better, that fascination only intensified.

    In the beginning, I was a broken thing. A girl who’d been shattered into a million pieces of pain and heartache, betrayed by nearly every person in her life. A girl with no anchor or purpose, who’d fallen deeper and deeper into an abyss of misery. I thought I could fight my way out on my own, but indecision made me weak. I see that now.

    Piece by piece, Killian and Archer carried me out of the abyss. They welded me back together and protected me no matter the cost, ensuring the girl I became would be stronger than the girl I was.

    At any point, Killian could have betrayed me. He could have chosen his realm over my fragile trust, but he never did. Not once. He picked me. He put me first. I see that, too.