“Riley,” I growled, and the rogue gave me the most unapologetic, shit-eating grin I’d ever seen. He was, I thought in dismay, completely confident about his earlier declaration. I didn’t know whether to feel angry, relieved or terrified.

“Sebastian!” the Patriarch called before either of us could respond. He had walked to the center of the field and was standing tall with his sword held at his side. “Two minutes, traitor!” he warned, as my heart jumped up and lodged in my throat. “Two minutes until God’s judgment is upon us. I have made my peace with the Almighty. Have you?”

Garret looked at me. In the shadows of his gaze I saw longing and determination, and something so strong it made my stomach dance. I knew Riley was watching, but I didn’t care. This was a fight to the death.

Stepping forward, I grabbed the front of his shirt, leaned up and kissed him. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me close, crushing me to his body. I heard Riley snort and turn away, and then I forgot about him, Talon, the Patriarch, everyone. I was only aware of this spot, this moment in time and the human in my arms.

“You’ll win,” I whispered as we drew back. “If there is a just God, He won’t let you lose, not with what we’re trying to do. But you don’t need His help, Garret. You’ve got this. You’re going to beat the Patriarch, and St. George will see him for what he really is. And then we can finally put this whole stupid mess behind us.” He blinked, and I gave a wobbly smile. “Until the next catastrophe, anyway.”

Garret pressed his forehead to mine. “I love you, Ember,” he whispered, making my insides knot. “I never...thought I could feel this way, especially for a dragon. But, if this is the last time we’re together, I want you to know. Nothing has changed since Vegas. Since Crescent Beach, really. You’re still the most important thing that’s ever happened to me, and if I die here trying to protect your kind from St. George, I have no regrets.”

“Garret...”

“Don’t say anything,” he murmured, smiling a little as he pulled back. “It sounds like a goodbye, and I still need something to look forward to. To help me win. Just be waiting for me when I get back.”

“I will.”

He brushed a thumb across my cheek, turned and walked to the center of the ring, where the Patriarch waited in the bloody red light of the rising sun.

GARRET

I hadn’t been entirely truthful.

When Riley asked me if I could handle this, I’d sidestepped the question. I’d told him I didn’t know if the Patriarch could fight. That was a lie. Not only did the Patriarch collect swords and ancient weapons, he trained with them extensively. When he invoked the right of Trial by Combat, it wasn’t the desperate, last-minute ploy of a man with nothing to lose. It was a strategic gamble that would give him all the advantages. I knew little of swordplay; we’d trained with blades in the Order, but it was only a small part of our education, being seen as mostly impractical and taught more for the sake of tradition than for actual use. The Patriarch probably had this plan in reserve all along, knowing that someday he might have to use it. I knew this wouldn’t be an easy fight. I wasn’t even certain that I could win.

But I couldn’t concede. The Patriarch held the advantage in this duel, but there were too many counting on me to fail now. Including a certain fiery dragon girl who would be waiting for me when this was over. She was the reason I was doing this, the reason my life had changed. If I died here trying to change the Order, if even a few in St. George began to question things, it would be worth it.

In the center of the imaginary circle, the Patriarch waited for me, a bright, motionless statue in white and red. Martin stood to one side like a referee, facing us both, his dark figure silhouetted against the pale ground. There was no breeze, no breath of air that stirred the flats, no sound except my footsteps crunching over the salt. I halted ten feet from where my opponent stood, and for a moment, absolute silence descended over the world.

The Patriarch’s cold blue eyes met mine over the arena. “Blasphemer,” he said softly, the whisper full of horrified loathing, perfectly clear in the complete stillness. “Demon lover. You’re enslaved to the she-devil, aren’t you, Sebastian? Your soul is tainted beyond redemption. I don’t know whether to hate you or pity you. But don’t worry.” He raised his sword very slightly, letting the light dance along the razor surface. “I’ll set you free.”

I almost smiled. The Patriarch’s words meant nothing to me. Perhaps a few months ago, when I’d first realized I might be falling for the creature that was supposed to be my enemy, perhaps then I would have cared. But it was far too late now. I’d accepted the truth—I was in love with a dragon—and I wasn’t ashamed.