“So, you have to ask yourself—” Faith’s voice was a croon, low and dangerous “—who is more important to you? Who are you going to save? The soldier of St. George? The greatest enemy of our kind? The human whose pitiful life span will be over in the blink of an eye?” She glanced at the kneeling soldier, a look of contempt crossing her face, before turning to me again. “Or will you choose Dante, the twin you’ve known all your life? The dragon whose only concern, from the moment you ran away from Talon, has been your safety? He’s waiting for you, Ember. Everyone is. We all want you to come home.”

I was suffocating, struggling to breathe, to make an impossible choice that wasn’t really a choice at all. I couldn’t shoot Garret—there was no way I could do that. But if I didn’t, they would kill us both anyway. And who knew what Talon would do to Dante.

I looked down at the weapon in my hand, then back to Garret, kneeling on the floor in front of the firing squad. His expression was blank, carefully guarded, though his eyes were bleak as they met mine.

Faith eased closer, her dark gaze burning the side of my face, as her voice dropped to a soothing murmur. “You can start over,” she said. “Everything you’ve done will be erased, all your crimes against Talon will be forgiven. You belong with your own kind. But, if you don’t pass this test, you will die. And Dante will suffer for your failure.” She leaned back, her expression confident, as if everything had already been decided. “I think you know what you have to do.”

And suddenly, I did.

I shivered and closed my eyes, willing my hands to stop shaking. “If…if I do this,” I whispered, “can you promise that Dante will be safe? That none of this will impact his place in the organization? And that we’ll be able to see each other again, without consequence?”

Faith’s voice was full of triumph. “You have our word.”

“Okay.” My voice came out choked. Raising my head, I met the gaze of the soldier in front of me, knowing he hadn’t glanced away from us the whole time. Garret watched me, gray eyes resigned, the look of someone who expected to die.

“I’m sorry,” I told him in a shaking voice, and felt my stomach wrench sideways at the look on his face. Betrayal and disbelief glimmered from his eyes, a split-second reaction, before his expression shut down and became a blank mask. Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward. “This is my brother,” I went on, my voice pleading and defiant at the same time. “My twin. Dante has always been my first priority. I’ll do anything to keep him safe, even this.”