Lochan says nothing. He doesn’t have to. I can feel him. Feel his desperation and his fear. His anger. His love. Above everything else that comes from Lochan through the mate bond is love. It catches me off guard.
Marius’s hand rests over my sternum, his shadows feeding me, conjoining with my own.“Take what you need,” he murmurs, though his voice cracks.
The Morrigan’s laughter shreds the fragile connection.“Pathetic. You think these little boys love you? They love the idea of salvation. Of playing hero.” Her claws dig into my mental walls, venom seeping into every crack.“When they see the dark inside you—when they realize you’re just like me—they’ll abandon you. Or you’ll be their destruction. Just. Like. Them.”
A mental image of a photograph of my parents.
A thought pushed into my mind.
Everyone around you dies. Save them, if you really love them. Let them go.
The bonds fray.
No.
Marius’s fingers twitch against my skin. He is giving everything for me. He is sacrificing himself to save me.
“Exactly.” Her voice is smug.“Everyone who cares for you will die. Sacrifice yourself instead of them.”
“You’re wrong.” The words tear free.“They see the darkness. And they stayed. They’re strong. And we’re stronger together.”
The mindscape we are in shudders. Cracks web across obsidian walls.
She snarls.“Sentiment makes you weak.”
“No. It makes you obsolete.” I step forward, Marius’s borrowed power surging up through me, joining the Raven King’s shadow magic.“Because love isn’t transactional. It doesn’t come with terms and schemes and corpses piled up like bargaining chips.”
Her glare sharpens, but the ground beneath her feet crumbles.
Callen’s voice again, closer now.“That’s it. Find your way back.”
Tiernan’s whisper in my ear.“We’re not going anywhere.”
The Morrigan lunges, but her form blurs, edges dissolving.“You’ll beg for my mercy when they turn. When your precious bonds burn.”
The Morrigan’s words scrape through my skull like rusted blades, but the cracks spreading across her temple of shadows don’t lie. She’s unraveling. For a moment, her composure shatters, and through the fissures, I see it—a vision not meant for me.
A golden crown set with obsidian stones.
Not hers.
The image sears into me before she can snatch it back. Her panic tastes metallic, coppery, and sour.“You see nothing, vessel.”
I laugh.“Your little fairytale has an alternate ending.” My voice doesn’t shake anymore.“Turns out you’re not the queen of this story.”
Her ghostly hands scratch at my consciousness, but they pass through like smoke.“Arrogant child. You think your borrowed power makes you worthy?”
“No.” I flex the new shadow magic winding inside me, alive and eager.“But they do.”
Five threads of light blaze through the dark. The bonds sing, severing her hold.
The Morrigan’s laughter curdles.“You think shackling me changes anything? You carry me now. Every breath, every heartbeat—my essence in your veins.”
Her form splinters, dissolving into shards of black glass.
“Enjoy the cage,” I whisper.
Cold evaporates as sensation floods back in uneven waves through my limbs, and warmth fills me. God, the warmth. It spills across my chest, down my arms, liquid gold threaded with five distinct frequencies.
