“Go!” Mother’s voice cracked through the roar of the flames.

But Solene didn’t move. She couldn’t.

The boy’s knife pressed against her ribs, the blade trembling as if caught between hesitation and fury. His eyes, lit by the inferno swallowing Angelo’s compound, weren’t the eyes of a child anymore. They were old. Broken. Familiar.

Lucien’s gun was still aimed at Rafael. He didn’t blink. Didn’t waver. The world could be burning down around them and it was but his ...