Her sadness seeps into my bones. There’s no fire left in her at this point. It’s almost as if her power has temporarily merged with mine, and the rain is a reflection of the tears soaking my shirt.

The storm follows us all the way to Delaveria. The main city in the Night Realm where the castle stands is quiet, as most are asleep right now.

Giving a welcome signal to the guards at the main gate to the palace, I fly past them. I soar over the bridge and go up to the third-story balcony to my room.

The last thing Zella needs is to be bombarded with people and questions. For now, we’ll spend some quiet time together. I’ll allow her to grieve in the privacy of our bedchambers.

She’s given up everything to come here to be with me. I won’t let her regret it.

I put a hand over the enchanted lock that only recognizes my touch, noting I’ll have to have the wizard who made them come to the palace to give Zella the same access.

As the double doors open, I carry Zella inside and I set her on the side of the bed.

On the outside, she already looks better. Our superficial wounds from the iron net have healed—probably because of the strength of the bond.

But emotionally, Zella looks defeated. Her head hangs down and a constant stream of tears flow down her cheeks.

It’d been foolish of me to hold out hope that the flight from Dawn and Dusk would help to heal her broken heart. Five hours isn’t enough.

Dropping to my knees in front of her, I take her hands in mine. “My sweet. I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened.”

The only response I receive is a sniffle. Wrapping my arms around her middle, I place my head on her lap. We’re both soaked from the rain, and we need to change. Luckily, I’ve prepared for her arrival by having one of the maids leave several dresses in the closet.

“If I ever lose you,” she starts quietly, “I’ll take my own life right away.”

Startled by her statement, I lift my head. “Don’t say that.”

“I mean it. I won’t become like him.” She looks at me with red-rimmed eyes before glancing toward the glow of dawn on the horizon.

“You wouldn’t,” I say, even though I suspect it’s a lie.

“Wouldn’t I?” she asks, her voice hard. “Wouldn’t you?”

I press my lips together. If we lost each other, we wouldn’t stand a chance against the madness that would eventually overtake our minds.

“Well, we won’t have to worry about that for a long time.” Searching for a distraction, I stand and sweep my arm out to the suite. “How about a tour?”