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A wave crashed over me, dragging me beneath its brutal current and tumbling me through the dark until I no longer knew which way was sky and which was sea.

I thrashed against its power uselessly as it threw me around like I was nothing. Then, with one final violent surge, the water spat me onto the shallows.

I hit the shore hard, coughing salt from my lungs as the tide curled around me like it had not finished deciding whether to drown me.

Sand as dark as my shadows stretched along the beach, where a large cliff face of sheer rock loomed above us. The tide was low, but this is where the Mortals held their Ascension ritual. Where Lyra would have thrown herself into the sea, hoping to die.

Bryony did not come on land. Instead, she lurked somewhere in the depths, which suited me just fine.

The small glass jar that we had found in the galley was tucked safely in my pocket. Pulling it out, I walked to the dry sand at the base of the cliff and filled it to the brim before twisting the lid back on.

I should have walked straight back into the Dead Sea and swam back to my ship. But a nagging feeling inside me made me start scaling the rockface. That and the prince’s pathetic worry lingering in his eyes.

My fingers gripped the rock, and I hauled my body up with ease, finding ledges to push my boots against.

Usually I would shadow jump, but using my powers seemed riskier by the day.

Every time I tore into shadows, it felt like the void wanted to keep me there.

I swung my body up onto the ledge of the cliff, chest rising and falling from the effort as I flexed my fingers.

The wind tore at my face in icy gusts as I walked past a stone altar and large firepit burnt into the rock.

My jaw clenched, canines aching as I imagined my beautiful Lyra slicing her palm open and throwing herself into the sea, welcoming an end to her miserable life.

The hairs on my neck stood on end. Monsters. I could sense them everywhere.

I picked up my pace, jogging towards the looming castle, through snow-capped trees.

The wind carried the smell of death and fear, but beneath it all, I could scent Mortals filled with suffering.

The frozen slush tried to slow me down. With every step I sank shin deep into the snow.

I finally cleared the tree line, grunting with annoyance as I tried to free my boots from the ground.

I paused, a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold sliding down my spine. For a moment, I could feel every monster’s twisted heartbeat thundering through my body as if they were my own.

There were so many of them that it took my breath away.

Stonebriar was infested.

I took another step and stumbled, pausing when I noticed a discoloured limb protruding from the snow.

I pressed my hand against the snow, kneeling on one knee, and sent out my powers. Shadows crawled from me, spreading out like poison to seek death.

Hundreds of dead bodies were buried in this snow field. Their souls were screaming, begging for release from the suffering. But not all of them. My eyebrows pulled together as I realised some were not killed by monsters.

These were not my people. Not even my species anymore. But I could not let their souls rot painfully in their bodies for eternity.

Snow drifted down as I began to sing, the flakes melting before they could touch the heat of my bare skin.

The sombre melody scraped out of me, rolling across the clearing to the dead souls.

An agony so blinding tore through my body that my spine straightened and my head tilted towards the sky, muscles tensing under the strain.

Their pain became mine. Their deaths violating my body as I felt every single one of their ends. Yet I kept singing. Releasing their souls one by one until they were free.

Soft footfalls sounded from the trees behind me, careful and deliberate.