I find the boy who has my heart.

“Gil?” I ask frantically, racing toward him without thinking.

He stands in front of me, eyes shut and still as stone.

I grab hold of his shoulders, shaking him desperately, but not a single part of him moves.

It’s like he’s…

It’s like he’s unaware.

I rip Naoko’s mask from my face and it clatters against the floor. “Gil!” I shout, my throat like sandpaper. “Open your eyes. I’m here. I’m right here!”

His beautiful, dark hazel eyes are nowhere to be found. The lips I felt next to mine hours ago are as colorless as death.

Tears well in my eyes as I reach for his face, grabbing him like I just need him to wake up.

I hear breathing behind me, and I know at once I’m being watched.

I spin around, expecting to find an army of Legion Guards, but instead I find Prince Caelan standing in the doorway, hands folded behind him and an orchestrated calmness in his eyes.

There isn’t enough hope left in the world to think that I can get out of this.

He knows what I am.

And soon the world will too.

“Please.” I look at Prince Caelan with my true eyes. The ones I’ve hidden from him all these months. “Let him go. You don’t have to do this.”

Prince Caelan blinks. “Begging is beneath you,” he says, the steel in his voice worse than any blade.

I stand in front of Gil’s body, defensive. “I won’t let you hurt him,” I growl, and I ready my mind to use the Reaper.

But when I do, nothing happens.

I look down at my wrist, but the Reaper isn’t there. Heart pounding, I touch my bare flesh. My mind reels, retracing the past few moments in a desperate attempt to make sense of this.

Caelan sneers. “You haven’t figured it out yet.”

I stare wide-eyed with confusion, before remembering Gil is behind me. Somehow, I find the will to turn around and face the shell of the person who once told me it would be my choice until it wasn’t.

Gil stares back, the Reaper wedged in his hand.

With a sneer that matches Caelan’s, his eyes darken until I no longer recognize them at all.

“You’re one of them?” I ask, voice hollow.

“No,” he replies curtly, face full of hate. “I am Caelan, the Prince of Victory.”

47

I SHAKE MY HEAD, NOT understanding, before glancing quickly between Caelan and Gil. And then I see the stillness in those silver eyes while fire burns behind Gil’s.

Gil walks across the room to Caelan and holds out the Reaper. At once, the prince’s body seems to reanimate, and he takes the weapon forcibly. Gil’s face falls vacant once more.

Like a puppet.

“You were controlling him?” I ask.