Senna’s POV

I couldn’t let the arrow go. My hands were frozen. My sight was on the girl. Every second that ticked by brought her closer and closer to the spire.

But I wasn’t a killer.

If I let the arrow go, I’d be killing her in cold blood. Another person. A real live human being.

I didn’t have that in me.

Everyone was shouting at me, telling me to let the arrow go. My forehead was covered in a thin layer of sweat. My heart was hammering against my ribs.

“Please, Senna,” Thistle cried out. The sound of his pleas broke my heart. He was sobbing, terrified.

But I...