“They’re going to make you choose.” His expression hardens, and the certainty there makes me recoil. “I’m not choosing.” I shake my head, disengaging our hands. “No human has ever chosen, and I’m not about to be the first.” And who the hell is Dain to tell me that? “You are.” He rips his hand over his hair, and his composure slips. “You have to trust me. You do trust me, right?” “Of course I do—” “Then you have to choose Andarna.”
