The epic love story of Clea and Sage comes to its thrilling conclusion in the final book in the Elixir series by multitalented star Hilary Duff. Following the harrowing events of Elixir and Devoted —and the ceremony that almost killed Sage—Clea faces a new reality: with Sage’s soul in Nico’s body, the love of her life looks an awful lot like her best friend’s boyfriend. Can Clea and Sage really be happy under these circumstances? Struggling to keep his new identity secret and still protect Rayna, Clea makes one difficult choice after another. Clea wants to try to enjoy their new life together, but Sage is acting different—angry—and she struggles to keep her friends from finding out what has happened to him. Something is clearly haunting Sage, and Clea is losing control. Can she trust her friends with the dangerous truth, or will she lose Sage to his madness? Hilary Duff is a multifaceted actress and recording artist whose career began on the popular Disney sitcom Lizzie McGuire . She has since appeared in many films and TV series, including a guest appearance on Gossip Girl . She has sold more than 13 million albums worldwide and has a clothing line, Femme for DKNY, and a bestselling fragrance, With Love…Hilary Duff, for Elizabeth Arden. Hilary’s humanitarian work is recognized throughout the world, and she is actively involved with many different charities benefitting children and animals. She has served on The President’s Council on Service and Civic Participation and was named ambassador to the youth of Bogatá, Colombia. She is the New York Times bestselling author of the novels Elixir , Devoted , and True . one CLEA I’ve never been so terrified in my life. I run so hard and fast, my breath scours my throat. I don’t even know how long I’ve been running. Agony spikes my legs with every step, but I can’t stop. I don’t dare. It’s dark, but I don’t want to see. I don’t want to hear, either, but I can’t help it. Screams. High-pitched screams. A little girl, tortured—her soul ripped apart. It’s awful, and it goes on and on and on . . . my God, when will it stop? It has to stop! Another scream. A man. I know the voice, but I don’t want to know it. I don’t want to hear it. I can’t. I keep running. A face leaps out of the darkness, blocking my path. Its size is impossible—as tall as I am, white-pale skin stretching over bloodshot white-orb eyes and a mouth open so wide it could swallow me. I scream, but no sound comes out. I back up, but I can’t turn away. The blank eyes lock on mine, and bloody tears start streaming down its cheeks. I step back into nothingness. The last thing I see is the head exploding into scarlet mist. I fall backward, flail my arms and legs, catch on nothing. The dirt walls of this pit are out of reach, but I can see them, see the twisted faces undulating just under their surface. I see their clawed fingers reaching out to me. Their susurrant voices call to me in a language I can’t understand, but the meaning is clear. These are my dead, and they’re hungry for my company. The voices keen louder as I plummet. I try to plug my ears, close my eyes, but I can’t block them out. They fill my senses until a blinding-sharp pain pierces my spine. I raise my head and see it: a massive metal spike impaled through the middle of my body. I hang on it, twisting helplessly as the dead souls above claw through their dirt coffins and crawl down to claim me as their own. . . . “NO!” I scream. “Clea,” a voice says. “Clea, it’s okay. . . . It’s not real. . . . You’re safe now. You’re okay.” I hear him, but I feel too foggy to understand. The pain in my back is fading, but my face hurts like something’s slicing into it. A rush of cold washes over me, and I don’t want to open my eyes. I’m more afraid now than I was surrounded by the dead, but the reason why floats out of my grasp. All my attention narrows to the strap of pain eating across my forehead, my eye, my nose. . . . A seat belt. It’s a seat belt. I’m in a car. Of course I’m in a car—I can feel it now, the familiar hum and vibration and movement. I must have fallen asleep slumped against the seat belt. I sit up and wince away from the sting. The pain in my face ebbs, but other aches and flames explode all over my body. I open my eyes . . . . . . and see Nico, Rayna’s boyfriend, staring down at me. It’s dark outside, but I can see him in the streaking headlights from cars going in the opposite direction. He’s so tall and broad, he looks stuffed into the backseat, like it’s a clown car. He’s not belted in; he’s braced over me, one hand on the back of the passenger seat and one hand on the seat behind my head, his body tenting mine. Twigs and leaves mat his blond hair and dirt smears his face, but his deep brown eyes grip me. They’re so filled with worry and— Brown eyes. Nico has blue eyes. I gasp as I remember everything. I see it all—the maelstrom in the woods, bullets and branches everywhere. . . . Nico—the real one—with