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“I don’t understand… Helion made Rythos to hunt me and kill me in every lifetime. Why would he protect me from his own weapon?” I argued, not trusting a single thing that came from my torturer.

“Did he?” he challenged, holding my gaze with raised eyebrows. “All I know is that even after becoming a monster, the world is still ending, and I am still trapped. My head is warped and broken but, could Rythos be something else completely?”

I stared at him, waiting for satisfaction to rise. Waiting for the sight of him ruined to feel like justice. But it never came.

He had carved pieces out of me and called it duty. But doing so had carved pieces out of him too. I did not forgive the priest. I never could. But as I looked at Edgar, the hollow shell of a male kneeling at my feet, I wondered if he was the same male at all. I wondered if he had ever truly been the monster, or if he had been forced to play one.

“But I need you to know, Helion loves you, more than the realms you stole from him. Before you free your memories from the locket, complete your deal, the survival of the kingdoms depends on it.”

I scoffed. Everyone seemed so obsessed with me spreading my legs for Helion, for him to get his powers back.

“Is he lying about knowing how to cure Rythos?” I asked hesitantly, unsure if I could even trust his answer or if this was just a manipulation.

“No.” Edgar looked up at me. “You can hate him for every lie, every chain, every drop of blood he took from you. But you can trust what he says. Rythos is alive because Helion made sure he had enough of your blood to hold off the curse.” His voice softened. “Long enough for you to save him.”

I swallowed hard. My mind reeling. Helion was keeping Rythos alive?

“Why would he do that? Why save the man I love when he wants me for himself?” I asked, forcing steel into my voice despite my shock.

But the answer slithered through me before Edgar could speak and I felt my muscles tense.

Leverage.

Helion knew I would drown the realms for Rythos. He knew I would bleed, beg, bargain, break—anything to keep him breathing.

My fingers curled back into fists.

“He didn’t save him,” I whispered. “He kept him alive so I would have something left to lose.”

Edgar ran his hand through his hair again, the straight blonde strands falling over his brow without his usual styling. “You misunderstand him, Lyra,” he murmured with a small shake of his head.

Without taking my eyes off Edgar, I reached for the locket. My fingers brushed the tarnished metal, and it sent a warmth through me that made me shiver.

But instead of pressing my magic into the locket and singing my memories free, I slowly lifted my gaze to Edgar, my fingers hovering over the tarnished heart as if touching it might shatter whatever fragile certainty remained inside me.

He nodded once, barely more than a dip of his chin, but the meaning of it passed between us with the weight of what I needed to do. Helion had given Rythos a longer chance at staying alive. He had left my blood behind to keep the curse from devouring him completely, and though every wounded, furious part of me wanted to believe it was only leverage, only another cruel thread in the web he had spun around me, I could not ignore the truth buried beneath it.

Rythos was still breathing because Helion had allowed him to be.

The thought twisted through me like a blade, sharp with confusion, hatred, and something far more dangerous, because if that were true, then perhaps he had told the truth about the cure too.

My hand closed around the locket, the metal warm and pulsing against my palm, and I forced myself to breathe through the storm rising inside my chest.

I dipped my chin in return.

I knew what needed to be done, and the knowledge settled over me with the finality of a noose tightening around my throat.

For Rythos, I would walk willingly into Helion’s arms.

Tonight, I would sleep with my enemy to save him.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sand of a Dead Kingdom

Rythos

The storm had raged through the dead of night, crashing over the hull and trying to drag my beloved ship to the depths. But eventually, just like everything, it broke, and the weary light of dawn crested the horizon.