This time, Liam reached for the silvery threads of the rift that would take them back to their world and tugged. It seared into his mind, the blinding brightness of it, and the harder he pulled, the more the darkness unraveled around him. With a snarl, the taloned claws dropped him, and he scrambled back until he found Daniel pulling free of the mud and took his hand once more. His skin was burning, hot as the film reel fire back in the town, burning the shadow away as Liam tore open a pathway home.

Trees coalesced around them as the darkness faded. He pulled Daniel to him while the rift sealed up behind them: the darkness, the hatred held at bay.

For now.

They were back in their world on the eastern bank of the stream, stoic oak trees shedding orange leaves around them. To the west, they could hear screams amidst the crackling flames in Hallenberg’s town square. Gunfire rang out, a single rifle crack: Simone? Or one of the soldiers?

“We have to get to Wewelsburg. Kreutzer’s got the book—”

“What was that . . . thing talking about?” Daniel asked. “Doyle blood—paying for what you’ve done.” Daniel’s breath quivered; he took Liam’s hands. “Liam. What was—who—”

Liam squeezed his hands back, then dropped them. He turned to keep moving, but Daniel stayed rooted to the spot. He’d seen it in the firm line of Daniel’s mouth: he would have to give him the truth, all of it, if he wanted his help.

If he wanted . . .

Liam closed his eyes as he gulped down air. He’d never meant for any of this to happen. It was why he’d come here alone, why he’d been fighting so brutally for control: he was the only one who could set things right, because he was the only one who’d let them go so wrong. So massively, so painfully. This was his trial. His mistake to undo.

Liam’s shoulders fell, and he opened his eyes once more. Only minutes ago, he’d almost kissed Daniel, but now Daniel was looking at him like one of the shadow world’s monstrosities. Something dangerous, something not to be touched.

Daniel was more right than he knew.

“I . . . lost someone in the shadow world. Someone I loved.”

Daniel lowered his gaze, resigned. “The boy you mentioned. Pitr.”

Hearing Pitr’s name—from Daniel’s mouth, no less—made it all too real. There’d been a time when all Liam wanted was for it to be real, for the world to know what they were. How easy it had been, back then.