With my hands over hers, I jerked them back, and as my wound healed, my claws burst from the fingertips and sank into Nadia’s stomach.

Her eyes widened with shock, and as her legs gave out, I helped her to the ground.

“Issi,” she whispered, a trickle of blood trailing down her mouth.

I held her to me, staring down at her pale face, watching as a single tear fell from her eye—it was all that she would shed for me.

As she took her final breath, I spoke. “No, Nadia. I am not your Issi,” I whispered, though tears filled my eyes. I had no time to process the feelings that tore through my chest and ripped me open, but I felt raw and exposed and completely devastated.

This woman had cared for me and nursed me; she had stepped into a mothering role, and I saw her as such—and yet, when she had seen me shift, I had only become a monster in her eyes.

My breath became shallow, ragged, and I screamed until my throat burned, until my ears rang with the sound of it, until my wails dissolved into silent tears.

“Well, isn’t this devastating.”

I froze, lifting my head at the sound of Ravena’s voice.

“First you lose your father,” she continued. “And now the woman who treated you as a daughter.”

My gaze fell to Nadia, whose eyes remained open and wide. I closed them, pressing a kiss to her forehead before carefully resting her upon the ground. Then I rose to my feet and turned, still surrounded by the mirrored circle, and faced Ravena.

She filled one of the large, jagged pieces of mirror she had called forth from the floor. I expected her to appear all around me as she had done in the hall of mirrors at the Red Palace, but she didn’t.

“Why did you help me?” I asked.

“I have been trying to help you,” she said. “I have warned you about Adrian. I have told you that we are fighting for the same purpose.”

“You keep saying that, and yet you keep killing my people,” I said.

“Men,” she said. “I am killing men.”

“Ivka was not a man,” I said.

Ravena smiled, but it was sad. “An unfortunate sacrifice. I did not wish to see her die, but she would have distracted you, and Nalani is not your concern.”

“Who are you to say?” I asked, gritting my teeth.

“You did not incarnate in this life to be Isolde of Lara. You incarnated to seek revenge as Yesenia of Aroth, and that revenge must be against men. They hurt you.”

“You hurt me,” I said.