The fire died, and she once again crashed into the floor. Gasping for breath, she fought her way to her hands and knees, then to an unsteady crouch.

“Ready for...round two?” she panted, taunting the prince.

A knot clogged Thane’s throat. He made to grab her and jerk her behind him, even though his forearms and wrists were broken and set at odd angles.

“None of that,” Malice said—and used the sword to hack off both Thane’s hands.

Elin screamed with fury. She lumbered to her feet and launched herself at the prince, but he caught her midair, able to levitate her with his mind and lock her in place. Then...he stabbed her in the stomach.

“Oh, my,” the prince said as she crumbled to the floor. “I do hope she wasn’t carrying your babe.”

Thane barely had time to choke on a howl of rage, for when she reformed, the male quickly decapitated her. This time, she reformed almost instantly, motionless in a pool of blood and fire one second, crouched and surrounded by smoke the next. Thane almost couldn’t process the depths of his fury and helplessness.

“Please,” he croaked. He would beg. Pride was nothing when it came to his woman’s safety and well-being.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” the prince continued. “I’m going to give a command, and you, Thane, are going to obey it. If you fail, I will kill your female in a new and creative way.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll do.” Thane stood, swayed. He didn’t care about the loss of his hands, or the holes in his chest. “This is between you and me.”

“Exactly.”

“She’s suffered enough.”

“Has she?”

He watched, unable to do anything as Elin floated closer and closer to the prince...stopping just in front of him. She looked at Thane and offered him a soft, sweet smile that proved to be his undoing.

He stumbled forward, intent on stepping in front of his woman and taking whatever blow was meant for her. He couldn’t watch her die again. He just couldn’t.

An almost imperceptible shake of her head stopped him.

He frowned.

“Thank you,” she said to Malice.

The male arched a brow. “For what, my sweet?” He gently brushed the hair from her forehead.

“For orchestrating your own downfall. You see, the second time you killed me, you severed our bond. Every time after that, I grew stronger. Now, I’m powerful enough to control the abilities that would have overwhelmed me otherwise.” As the last word left her, wings burst from her back. Wings of red, yellow and black. Not made of feathers, but of flames. Thick smoke curled from their edges.

Before the prince could process what was happening, she spun, swiping those wings across his throat.

She dropped to the floor, crouched, watching, waiting, the wings lifted and spread behind her.

Blood dripped from Malice’s wound several seconds before his head slipped off his body. But he caught the head midair and put it back in place.

The skin, and everything else, wove back together.

“That wasn’t very nice,” the prince gritted.

Horror chilled Thane. But he forced himself to look past it. Past all of his emotions and focus on instinct. All demons, no matter their rank, were susceptible to one thing.

“No,” Elin whispered. “Impossible.”

“Again, Elin,” Thane managed.

She heard him and reacted instantly, swinging her wings at the prince a second time before he thought to strike at her.

Once again, she removed his head.

“Water,” Thane rushed out next. “Robe. Pour.”

She knew what he wanted, and grabbed the robe she’d taken from Bjorn, the one the prince had torn away from her, digging inside and removing the vial of Water.

The prince’s head had fallen and again he’d caught it. But before he could anchor it back into place, Elin used her wings to propel herself into his chest and knock him down.

The head rolled away, out of reach.

Still the prince swung at her, though it was clear he couldn’t see her, because he missed by a mile. It bought her the second she needed. She dumped what little Water the vial contained over the neck wound.

Tissue sizzled. Sulfur-scented steam rose.

The body jerked.

The head screamed.

The sizzling intensified, and spread...spread...until all of his flesh...and muscle...and bone...were bubbling like cheese in an oven.

Elin coughed, the steam so thick it saturated the air. Thane didn’t have the strength to react.

Then the steam cleared—there one moment, gone the next—and there was no sign of the prince.

He was gone.

Thane had read about this. He knew the prince had just lost his body, and his spirit had been sucked into hell, where it was now bound.

Which meant...

It was over. It was really over.

Thane’s knees buckled, and he collapsed, overjoyed, relieved. And still dying. Ricker’s sword had punctured his heart and a lung, and now, his life’s blood poured from the ends of his arms.

He’d never hated pain more. Because it meant he would be taken from Elin.

“Kulta,” he gasped out.

Her wings vanished, and she rushed to his side, saying, “Bjorn and Xerxes are alive. I gave them each a few drops of the Water. And then the prince... I should have saved some for you... What was I thinking? I’m so sorry, baby.”

“You did everything right.” His gaze met the sweet beauty of hers. The time he’d had with her...worth anything. Everything. “Stay with...them. They’ll take care...of you.”

Tears caught in her lashes before cascading down her cheeks. “Don’t you dare talk like that. You’re going to be okay. You’re immortal. You’ll recover.”

If he drank the Water in the next few minutes, yes. Maybe. If not...no. These injuries were far too severe. Vital organs had been punctured and they couldn’t regenerate fast enough. He’d lost too much blood. But he didn’t want to tell her that. She’d start to feel guilty again.

His friends rushed into the room—and they were not alone. Bellorie and the girls, plus all of Zacharel’s army. Everyone had survived the attack. And thank the Most High, the minions must have sensed the prince’s death and scurried off like the cowards they were, afraid to act now that they were without a leader to protect them.

While Xerxes blocked everyone’s view of Elin, Bjorn grabbed a robe from the closet and tugged the material over her head, covering her nakedness.