Logan's POV
I go limp in the Shepherds' hold.
They release me without a word, and I collapse to my knees.
Dad's body slumps forward, blood pooling dark around his neck. The sword drips blood from Rowan's trembling hands—crimson staining silver, staining skin, standing the ground.
"Oh goddess—" Rowan gasps, staring at his palms. "Oh goddess, oh—"
Suddenly, he turns the sword on himself.
"ROWAN!" I try to shout, but it's barely air.
Caleb moves like lightning. He tackles Rowan to the ground before the blade can bite. The sword skitters across the wooden platform and lands at Nathaniel Aldridge's feet.
Rowan crumples beside our father. "Let me die!" he sobs, voice breaking. "LET ME DIE!"
Mama is still on her knees, face pressed to Martin's chest, sobbing like her soul has been ripped out.
Maybe it has.
Maybe mine has too.
She's lost her mate, her perfect half, her soul. Gone. The sounds she's making strips my bones bare.
