Page 138

Pathways died all the time. Endellion counted on it. Reveled in it, even, when it brought them that much closer to the rightful end. But for the paths to trade places and render her foretelling useless?

Never, in all of her travels through time and deliverance of prophecies, had such a thing happened.

Leave it to the damned Moonweaver. So many pieces, pieces, pieces, all moving, moving, moving, but she was the most ridiculous one of the bunch.

Honestly, that stubborn, Greater bastard might be worse.

Endellion shouldn’t be so surprised. They were made for each other after all, damn it. She never should’ve left him that single, gossamer fiber of their connection. Even that had been too strong. He forgot his purpose, found and built upon it somehow, and now they were paying for it.

If it didn’t pose the risk of summoning him, she would scream.

Focusing her power, Endellion threw the possibility of a choice into the universe. She watched the paths stretch out beyond themselves, on and on, until they both shriveled with rot and crumbled in on themselves.

Fuck. Endellion couldn’t repeat the earlier prophecy in any way that alerted Lunara to the fact that she now needed to go left instead of right. Of course, that was assuming the infuriatingly dense creature even understood what was being asked of her the first time she managed to infiltrate Endellion’s mind and see the future pathways for herself.

Unlikely.

Endellion thought it destiny, but she was beginning to wonder if it was a mere fluke.

Shaking herself, she tried another possible choice. And another. And another. And another. And another.

All had the same result.

Death. Death. Death. Death. Death.

On and on and…

Endellion forced herself to calm, sucking a dank breath deep into her lungs despite the chains that held her. She reminded herself the only reason there even was a fork in the road—a choice to be made—was because the possibility of life was still there.

It wasn’t until the pathways shriveled down to a single, blackened one that they were truly fucked.

For now, there was still hope.

Endellion just had to find it before time ran out.

Lunara watched the oily surface of the portal in the Great Hall swirl, the nerves eating her alive from the inside out.

Brand asking her to accompany him was a shock. Welcome, but unexpected.

Of course he wanted to go down to the city. After he straightened himself with such purpose that morning, every regal inch of him rising from the ashes of his awakening, it only made sense. At the same time…

Something seems off.

Exactly.

Or maybe they’d gone so quickly from strangers to lovers before this ordeal that Lunara didn’t really know what he was like when getting to know someone slowly. It was possible the rigid manners and softly spoken requests were normal for him. That he often drifted, a look of pain twisting his features.

Maybe she should ask⁠—

Oh. Damn.

A pang shot through Lunara’s chest, a burn in her eyes with it.

“Where are you, Nyri?” she whispered to no one, wishing for an answer anyway.

Her sweet friend would’ve known and told her everything. Enthusiastically. Without worrying about the why.

“A question that plagues me every second of every day.”