I curl my body over the remains of the great demon king, desperate to save him from his fate, shielding him from the elements whipping through the space and threatening to whisk his pieces away. Tears stream down my face as I press my palms to his frozen chest, pushing healing magic beneath his skin in a frantic attempt to revive him, knowing it will do no good.

This can’t be all there is, my heart cries. There must be something else. Something more. Something to make it worth anything at all. But no matter how much I wish it to be, how much I scream and cry and plead with the fates to bring him back, they refuse.

As the last of my magic is sapped from my veins and the storm begins to die, I slump to the ground beside him, my throat raw and my chest heaving with violent, rattling sobs.

This can’t be it. It was right there—right there—and then it wasn’t. My future, my hope, my love—all taken in a single moment.

I tip my head to the skies, the whipping wind freezing the tears on my cheeks as they fall, singeing my skin with its cruel icy fingers and reminding me of what I had and what I lost.

A high-pitched mewl draws my attention to the side, and when I turn my head, I’m shocked to find Nya’s glowing red orbs blinking across the distance. Her fluffy black tail swishes back and forth along the ice, causing a fine layer of ash to billow into the air around her.

Honey materializes from the shadows next, followed by Comet, Bo, and Echo. Syn slithers across the ground and stops at Nya’s feet, rising with a gentle hiss as her long, inky tongue flicks out, sampling the misery and despair hanging heavy in the air. I wait for them to step closer, to come and soothe me like they have so many times before—but they just stand at the periphery of the clearing, watching silently. Waiting for something.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, my voice cracking with each strained word. “Why are you just standing there?”

The little yellow rabbit who started this entire fucked-up tragedy shuffles forward, the tips of his fuzzy ears dragging in the thin layer of soot covering the ice. He moves about a foot, then stops, tilting his head to the side as he inspects me from across the distance.

“Bo,” I plead. “It’s okay. You can come here.”

Bo’s lips twitch, but he refuses to move any closer, just sits there watching me with those big, beady yellow eyes. Nya lets out a piercing meow, calling Bo back to the group. He blinks, then turns, hopping to the space between Honey's burly paws and nuzzling against her chest for comfort.