chapter one

      “Life isn’t about what you gain; it’s about what you give.”

      —Troika

      Ten

      Present day

      I peer up at the indomitable Killian Flynn, my heart thudding against my ribs. Every breath I take fills me with hope, wonder...and dismay.

      Our relationship is about to change. Everything is about to change.

      Earlier, we snuck out of our realms to meet in the Land of the Harvest. A secret cave in Russia’s Ural Mountains, to be exact. Now we stand face-to-face, hand in hand. Jagged rocks create the perfect frame for Killian’s wild, ravaging beauty and the unwavering strength he wields. Strength forged on the bloodiest of battlefields.

      There’s no other warrior I’d rather have at my side.

      Our people might be at war, but we are going to usher in peace. One step at a time.

      I drink him in, this boy I’m trusting with my present—and my future. His skin is a magnificent shade between bronze and gold while his hair is jet black. His eyebrows are thick, masculine, and his nose sharp as a blade. His mouth is soft and lush. Pure temptation...

      A shadow of a beard dusts his triangular jaw. Under his T-shirt and jeans, his deliciously muscled body is covered in tattoos. Skulls, stars, roses and other images, all connected by lines, creating some sort of map. That map appears on both his spirit and his Shell—an outer casing made to resemble a spirit—but he’s never told me where it leads.

      One day, he’ll share all. We both will.

      But it is his eyes that draw me in and hold me captive. His eyes are a soulful gold with flecks of electric blue. Always those flecks strike a chord inside me, different songs piercing my soul. Some are fast and erratic, eliciting passion, while others are slow and dreamy; always they are haunting.

      Today I hear a seductive melody that sets my blood aflame and chills me to the bone. Makes sense. I am fire, he is ice, yet we fit. After all, the warmth of a fire is best enjoyed on a frigid winter’s day.

      So many differences. Too many, most would say.

      Just enough to rock the entire world.

      I am day. He is night.

      I strengthen in Light. He is unrivaled in darkness.

      I like rules, structure. He thrives in chaos.

      I believe our worst emotions should never dictate our actions; we should help, forgive and care for others. Emotions are fleeting, after all, and subject to change. Why let one ruin your life? He believes emotion should drive us every moment of every day, and caring for others is foolish. Those you help now will stab you in the back later.

      To me, today’s choices dictate tomorrow’s reality. To him, Fate decides for us.

      I’m a Troikan Conduit. He’s a Myriadian Laborer. We are Lifeblood-born enemies, and yet he is the love of my Everlife.

      As different as we are, we are also the same. Painful pasts shaped us, made us stronger. We hold on tight whenever something—or someone—threatens the people and things we love. We fight for what we believe is right, no matter the obstacles in our way.

      I’m one of only two Conduits responsible for lighting Troika, and I’m supposed to kill Killian, our enemy. I’m going to marry him, instead.

      Chemistry doesn’t care about expectations. I love and adore this boy, and I hold on tight, remember?

      Even if I despised him, I would say “I do.” There’s more at stake than our hearts.

      Once we unite our spirits, we will have the opportunity to unite our realms and facilitate the peace we so desperately crave. Together, we will enter Myriad and slay Ambrosine, Prince of Ravens. The realm’s corrupt Secondking.

      A corrupt leader corrupts his people absolutely.

      Then Killian will take the crown, and command, and order his armies to stand down. He will accept the truce Troika once offered. A truce Eron, Prince of Doves and the Secondking of Troika, has wanted for centuries.

      Finally the war will end.

      Once that is accomplished—or maybe before, we haven’t decided on an order yet—we will save the poor souls trapped inside Many Ends, the hellish sub-realm connected to Myriad.

      Many Ends is home to the Unsigned who experience Firstdeath, as well as monstrous beings with a single goal: kill everyone. Spirits are hunted and killed in the most horrific ways. Again...and again. Because, once a spirit “dies” in Many Ends, it comes back to life, ready for round two...three...four...

      Four, the number for stability, order and justice. A strong foundation, considering there are four sides in a square. Four cardinal directions—north, south, east, west. Four seasons to complete a year—winter, spring, summer, fall. Four winds, and four phases of the moon.

      Four is the only numeral spelled with the same amount of letters as its numerical value.

      Focus. I believe the spirits trapped inside Many Ends come back to life, but my theory hasn’t yet been proven.

      Another uncertainty? Killian’s mother, Caroline, and my friend Marlowe could be there. But here’s the thing. Neither Caroline nor Marlowe were Unsigned. Caroline made covenant with Myriad years before, only