Something unfolded inside of Daniel, like a tightly clenched fist finally forced to relax. He knew what it was to have no choice. He’d been working his way through the SS with every chance he got, but now they stood on the precipice of an incredible discovery. Kreutzer was sure to be there. Heinrich Himmler wouldn’t want to miss such a momentous event. So many SS officers, ready and waiting . . .

His heart sank. It was a suicide mission, no matter what Liam thought. Especially if Pitr was there, ready to counter him. He couldn’t send Liam to his death—he couldn’t bear it.

This ambitious, mad, and maddening boy—he deserved to live. He didn’t have to wallow in the darkness any longer, desperately seeking control. But for Daniel, the darkness was the only possible ending to his path. The wrong Eisenbergs had paid with their lives; he had to repay that debt. His debt, and no one else’s.

“Don’t you see?” Liam asked him. “I can harness the shadows and keep them out of the Nazis’ grasp. I’m strong enough to do it. I can end the war.” He looked hard at Daniel. “You’ll be free.”

There was no freedom for Daniel. But he smiled, the pain of it sharp. Liam didn’t have to know what it would cost.

“Daniel,” Liam breathed. He swallowed, the sound so loud Daniel felt it like a blow. Liam’s lips were parted, and Daniel yearned to lean in . . .

“I’ll fight for you, Daniel.” His eyelashes fluttered as he glanced away. “I’ll fight to keep you here. I know I’m obsessive, disastrous—”

Daniel laughed, throaty, and climbed onto Liam’s lap. With a gasp, Liam’s arms fell open, inviting him closer. Daniel’s knees bracketed Liam’s hips as he settled onto his thighs.

“I’d rather fight along with you.”

Liam started to laugh, but Daniel quieted him with his mouth. The sound dissolved into the cool darkness of the chalet until they were only two boys, kissing like it could hold off the dawn. Liam’s lips were an embrace all their own; they were salt and sorrow and promises of something Daniel could never deserve. He kissed Liam tenderly, like he might fall apart if Daniel pushed too hard, but then Liam’s hands came to his hips and held him firm. An anchor. A bond.

It didn’t matter what darkness waited for him. He would have this, this moment of goodness and warmth, before farewell. He used to find release in music, then with a knife in his hand. Though the killing wasn’t over yet, he could experience this, too: a gorgeous, soft, brilliant boy beneath him and a desperate rhythm in his heart.