KNOX’S POV

Come back.

I’m right here. I’m holding on.

Come back to me.

I need you.

I need you, or we both die in this room.

The temperature drops. Not suddenly, but in degrees, like a dial being turned slowly.

The golden glow at Maurice’s chest pulses once, twice, three times, then begins to fade—the silver in Ember’s eyes thins, brown bleeding through like dawn coming up behind clouds.

The house stops shaking. The vibration in the floor subsides. The cracks in the ceiling stop spreading.

Ember takes a breath. A shuddering, gasping, broken inhale that tells me she’s back. She’s here.

She collapses against me, and the weight...