Page 56

I had not descended these cliffs in a hundred years. Not since the night I fled Stonebriar and left behind the life I had once known.

My teeth ached from the pressure of my clenched jaw as I dragged myself down the overgrown trail, each painfully slow step sending pebbles crunching beneath my boots.

We had ridden for two moonrises to get here, to the furthest northern edge of Lumireth, and somewhere along the way I had stopped expecting the pain to ease.

I still hadn’t recovered from fighting the Zyrriths in Tarook, nor from my own shadows turning against me in the caves. Every step jarred through my battered body, sending a sharp pain splintering beneath my ribs that threatened to fold me in half. Even breathing had become something I had to think about—each inhale shallow, measured, dragged carefully past the ache. Hells, even the howling wind pressing against my skin made me grit my teeth harder.

Darkness coursed through my veins like the waves battering at the cliffs below, eroding me piece by piece. My only hope was that there would be enough of me left when I found Lyra for her to hold the crumbling pieces together to say goodbye.

My throat burnt with an emotion I refused to name as I shoved it down, feeding it to the shadows gouging into me for thinking of her. My voice was hoarse from singing in every town we had passed through, burning the dead and releasing their souls into the afterlife. Monsters were plaguing my kingdom, and I was too obsessed with chasing the woman I loved to protect it. A king abandoning his people for the pull of his own heart.

I came to a sudden stop, pebbles sliding beneath my feet and tumbling over the cliffs edge before crashing into the waves below.

Solas cursed behind me, nearly crashing into my back as he skidded on the uneven stone. Caelum and Aldric halted behind him, the three of them crowding onto the narrow outcrop carved into the cliffside.

The prince paled as he glanced down at the sheer drop to the cursed waves churning far below, before pressing himself hard against the jagged rock face.

I knew what needed to be done.

“I relinquish my throne.” My voice came out steady and calm, despite the shadows twisting inside me. “Caelum, you are the High Lord of the Obsidian Court.”

“No,” Caelum said simply, brushing me aside as if I were having a momentary lapse in sanity. “Keep walking.” His steel gaze dragged over me, lingering on the tremor in my hands at my sides. His brows drew together, pulling at the jagged scar carved down the right side of his face.

“I am dying,” I said, quieter now. “Lumireth needs a leader.” I folded my arms across my chest, trying to hide the subtle shake—but it was useless. Caelum never missed anything.

“I do not want your throne. I want to figure out how to stop this curse.”

Solas pressed his lips in a thin line, caramel eyes roaming the unstable shadows digging into my skin.

I could only imagine how unhinged I looked—how close to splintering I truly was. It felt like something inside me was unravelling, thread by thread, until there would be nothing left but the monster under my skin. And I knew in their own ways, they could both see it.

“He has a point,” Solas said, breaking eye contact with me to turn to Caelum. “Someone needs to go back. To protect our people. I will keep him alive—and bring him back to the Obsidian Court. With Lyra.”

Caelum exhaled slowly, as if the logic was clicking together, forming something he could not refuse. “Make sure he drinks her blood as soon as he gets to her,” he said, steely eyes leveling on Solas. “It will slow the curse. Not stop it—but buy you enough time to get him back here.”

I let out a slow breath, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. There was no one I trusted more with my throne. Perhaps he could carry one more burden for me.

“Take the Mortal with you,” I said, not looking at Aldric.

“No.” The word cracked through the air. Aldric stepped forward despite the tremor in his breath, his face drained of colour as his gaze flicked toward the jagged drop and the cursed sea below. Despite the stench of fear rolling off him—and the frantic hammer of his heart—he squared his shoulders. “I’m not leaving,” he said, quieter now, but unshaken. “I didn’t protect her when she needed me most, so I won’t stand by when she needs me now.”

A frustrated sigh left me, and I shoved down the small spark of respect. He would be dead soon anyway. There was a reason no ships existed anymore. Voyaging on the Dead Sea was a death sentence. Between the monsters and the water’s curse, a Mortal held no chance of surviving this.

I dipped my chin towards Caelum, pressing my hand over my heart in a warrior’s bow. “May we meet again.”

Caelum returned the gesture. “In this life,” he murmured, “or the next.”

To anyone else, he would have seemed carved from stone. Cold.

But I had known him for a thousand years. His shoulders were braced, lips pressed together and his fists clenched at his sides. This goodbye wounded him, because deep down he knew this would be the last time he would see me alive.

“Thank you,” I whispered, so softly that the brine-scented wind threatened to carry it away. The weight of those two words carried a thousand years of emotion. He had saved me from the monster I was, given me purpose outside of my curse.

Two words would never be enough. But the solemn smile that ghosted his lips told me he understood.

I turned away and walked, shutting out Solas’s farewell as I wound my way down the cliffside toward the cave where my ship had lain hidden for the past century—leaving my oldest friend behind to carry the weight of a kingdom I had fought to claim.

Each step toward the sea made the turquoise bond in my chest pulse, dragging me forward with a force I could not resist. The ghost of her emotions shimmered along it, faint and fleeting, always staying just out of reach.