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I have no time for self-pity or recriminations. Not while the gods are moving their pieces across the board, pitting Sterling and me against each other to save the world. I need to get to him and tell him what’s happening.

There’s only one thing I know with bone-deep certainty. I will never hold him back or plot against him.

But the whole world might pay the price.

With stumbling steps, I finally reach our chambers. Sterling waits in our sitting room, eating an apple and flipping through a book.

When he notices me, his mouth curves into a wide smile. “There you are. I heard you were out of the palace, but…” He trails off, his face falling when he gets a good look at me. “What happened?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. All the things I wanted to share about the crypt and strange artifacts we found there fade in the wake of Ziva’s visit.

“What is it?” He straightens and pulls me into his lap. “Are you hurt?”

My throat closes up, trapping my reply behind a wall of grief and fear.

“Lark.” Sterling brushes my hair back to peer up at my face. “Talk to me.”

I crumble, cradling his arm to my chest like a lifeline. His other is tangled in my dry, windblown hair. “Ziva just came to me in the courtyard.”

He stills, his eyes adopting a steely glint. “What did she want?” His hand stops for a moment before continuing to stroke my hair.

“She…” I clear my throat, my mouth dry as sand. “She’s aligned herself with Zeru. She’s asked me to be their champion.”

The silence between us is so complete I can hear the rush of blood in my ears. Sterling’s hand falls away from my hair. His face, his expressive, beautiful face, drains of color. Anger, shock, and resentment twist his lips. Pain, confusion, and doubt pinch his eyes.

“The champion that you will fight against. To the death. Not the Guardian. They want me now.” The words spill out in a desperate rush.

The shock, which has carried me this far, starts to dissipate. I begin to tremble as I desperately try to hold him closer.

This can’t be real. I can’t believe I have to say this. I never even saw it coming.

He cradles my face, beseeching me with his eyes. Begging me to tell him that I’m lying, teasing him. Anything other than speaking the truth.

I wish I could.

But I’m not even capable of making up a lie as cruel as the gods’ proposal.

“Fuck.” He leans his forehead against mine, sucking in a sharp breath. “What happens if you refuse?”

I shake my head, a boulder-sized lump forming in my throat. “Everything will be lost. The gods will lash out to punish me. You, me, the dragons. Ziva said the palace is delicate. It was a threat. She’ll kill everyone here. Agnar, Rose, Bastian, Leesa, her baby.” My breath catches on that last part. Bile scalds my throat.

He goes completely still. “Baby?”

In the rush of today’s events, I forgot he didn’t know about my sister’s news. “She’s pregnant. She and Bastian are going to have a child. And Ziva is going to kill everyone I care about unless I agree to be their champion.”

The utter despair in his eyes mirrors my own. We’re trapped, cornered like animals with no escape.

The sudden urge to move sends me bolting from his lap. I pace, dragging my hands over my cheeks to dry the tears. “I don’t even know why they want me. You’re stronger. Faster. You’ve been training and fighting and wielding magic for years.”

My pacing leads me to the end of the room, right next to the fireplace. With disgust, I snuff out the flames keeping the space warm. Then I spin around.

Something changes in Sterling’s face. His grief vanishes in an instant. He rises so quickly, the chair tips over. The hollow expression disappears from his eyes, leaving them focused. Determined. Angry.

No, not angry. Enraged.

In mere seconds, I stand before him. His arms encircle me, and I lift my lips to meet his. Our kiss is fierce at first, a desperate crashing of mouths. A claiming.

His lips become slick with moisture.