Page 35

“I am worried about you, Rythos,” Caelum said, the weight of his voice hitting me beneath my ribs.

“Do not waste your worry on me,” I snapped.

“You do not think I have noticed those black veins beneath your skin? Your heart is rotting. You are decaying.”

A shiver tore through me, and bile hit the back of my throat, burning before I swallowed it down.

“I am fine with dying, Caelum,” I said softly, and I felt him tense beside me. I kept my eyes trained on the dry leaves my boots crunched over like brittle bones. “I knew I would be choosing to die when I chose to love her, and I would make that choice one thousand times over for the sliver of happiness we could have together.”

“What about everything else we have built together?”

“We both know you are more than capable of ruling Lumireth, you have been doing it through me for a very long time.”

Silence stretched between us, an uncomfortable sadness wafted from Caelum reminding me of the smell of dew dawn left behind.

We walked the rest of the way without talking, and the only sound was the creaking of branches above us.

Sulphur burnt the back of my throat with every inhale and heat prickled against my skin as we approached the cave’s entrance.

I ground my teeth together, stepping over molten fishers embedded in the rock like veins, following them into the depths of the cave.

The heat pressed in around me as I stepped closer to the molten pool, Caelum trailing two paces behind me.

The ancient words scraped against my throat in the Fae language, carved into memory from a life I had tried to forget.

“Ancient fire, answer me. Light the truth, blaze me a path, burn the uncertainty.” My voice echoed through the cavern, swallowed by stone and fire.

For a moment nothing happened. The rocks beneath my feet began to tremble with a power so ancient, gooseflesh prickled against my skin.

The molten surface rippled. Slowly, two figures emerged, fire clinging to their rock-like skin and dripping from them in glowing strands that should have burned.

The cavern dimmed as though the heat itself bent toward them, light warping around their forms instead of illuminating them. The only creatures to have escaped Astaroth’s command waded from the lava as though it were nothing more than water.

“Make your offer,” they hissed in unison, voices bleeding from the stone with unmoving lips. Their heads tilted in opposite directions, movements jerking and unnatural—as though pulled by invisible strings.

Heat pulsed outward with each word, the stone beneath my boots groaning in response.

“Take the memory of Maraveth I hold closest to my heart,” I said, voice rough.

The Fire Fates traded in memories that you held dearest. Something that would hurt if you lost. The last time I was here, I gave them two memories: one was in trade for how to release myself from this curse, and one to allow Lyra to question them.

I had known she was trailing me, and a part of me had hoped they would tell her who I was. Told her what I had begun to suspect, that we were bonded. But they were fickle and spoke in cryptic prophecies.

The Fire Fates’ eyes lit up, twin infernos dancing with delight. Their smiles cracked through their stone-like skin as molten light leaked from within. They lifted their hands together, fingers curling slowly as if they were reaching for me.

Heat slammed into me. Oozing through my veins like molten lava and taking away my breath. It wasn’t just against my skin—it burrowed deeper, pressing into my very soul. A sound tore from my throat before I could stop it. A raw, threatening growl dragged from somewhere deep and unwilling. My jaw locked against the invasion as it burned through me, merciless and consuming.

Salt spray lashed my face, mingling with sweat as the wind howled around us. The wooden planks of my ship bit through my trousers as I kneeled in awe.

She walked towards me and nothing else mattered.

Sea water glistening against her pale skin, sparkling in the sunlight before dripping onto the planks. I began to protest.

We could only meet in the safety of the night.

But she pressed a finger against my lips with her right hand, the same hand that was inked with a wave crashing around the sun, silencing me.

The world narrowed—until she was the only thing that existed.