Summary:

The scream that rips its way out of Shane’s chest is feral, inhuman. A wretched, mournful wail being torn from his body by the bony hands of grief. He collapses to his knees and sobs, anguish pouring out of him like a tidal wave. Suddenly there are arms around him, but they’re not the right ones. Not Ilya. Or, Ilya’s plane goes down.