“No!” Carissa ducked beneath her captor’s Scythe and twisted from his grip. She blindly lunged toward Kerstin, unsure as to what she could do but knowing she could do something.
But the Scythe pierced Kerstin’s chest long before Carissa reached her. Carissa could do nothing but stare and press her hand to the blackened wound. She’d just allowed the death of Lyron’s mother. How would Lyron—
“No!” he cried. “Mother—”
He fell silent, as if his words had been severed midair.
Carissa glanced at him, and her heart stilled, as if refusing to acknowledge what she saw. The Reaper had embedded the Scythe into Lyron’s back. As he jerked it free, Lyron gasped, his face scrunched in agony.
Carissa rushed to him, but by the time she had pulled him into her arms, the light had faded from his gaze. He was stiller than any person should be. His eyes stared blankly up at her, glazed as if they saw past her.
He would never see her again. Never speak to her. Never touch her.
Carissa wrapped him more tightly in her arms and pressed her palm to the wound in his back, as if she could stem the life ebbing from him. She rocked him back and forth, his name pouring from her lips onto deaf ears.
The sobs broke from her, no matter how she tried to stuff them back down her throat. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, damp from perspiration, and cried.
Author’s Note: Well. Now you know that the sneak peek will make you hate me more.