Alina Starkov is dead. Your sister is dead.

The words don’t hit you the same way they should, and maybe that’s because you’ve been running on autopilot for weeks. Maybe it’s because you didn’t even get the chance to mourn her properly. Who has time to mourn when a man like him is on your tail?

But still, it’s a bitter thing to swallow. The world mourns, of course—she was the Sun Summoner, the light of Ravka, the savior who was supposed to unite the people. The girl who had the power to change everything.

And then she died.

You don’t really know what happened, do you? Some part of you doesn’t want to. You can’t afford to know—because the truth would be one more thing to burn in the pit of your stomach.

But there’s one thing you do know: you are the last Sun Summoner. The only one who can who can push back the Fold and its endless darkness. And now the Darkling, the monster who once sought to rule the world with your sister by his side, is hunting you.

You could run. You’ve been running. But there’s something about the way he calls your name in your nightmares, something about the weight of his gaze, that makes you wonder how long you can keep running before the inevitable.

You’d like to say you don’t feel the pull, that you don’t feel that strange, magnetic connection whenever he gets too close—but that would be a lie. There’s a part of you that feels something when you see the flicker of shadows shifting in the corner of your vision.

It’s not like you trust him. You know better than that. You’ve learned better than that.

But what you’re not sure of is whether you can stay out of his reach for much longer.

Because when he finally catches you—oh, when he catches you, he won’t just kill you. He’ll make you see the truth. He’ll make you feel it. The same twisted logic he always had: You have always been meant for him.

But you? You’re not as naive as your sister. You know the darkness in him. No, you won’t fall into his arms—at least, not without a fight.

No one gets to own the sun.