He looks up at me, his brown eyes shining. “She’s wrong about you. You’re brave and selfless and good. But you?” He laughs at Wyvernmire and brings his other hand down on top of my bloody one. “You’re dead without Viv. She could have protected you, and the nation you claim to love, if you’d have just agreed to extend that protection to everyone. Even Ralph knows it—that’s why he shot me. Because he thinks Viv will stay here with me, with you, instead of joining the rebels.”
