The air feels too thick, like his words might suffocate me.
“Sacrifice?” I repeat, my voice laced with a bitterness I can no longer hide. “Betrayal?You dare speak of these things as if you know their true meaning?” My hands clench at my sides, nails digging into my palms. “I gave everything, Tovar. Everything. And still it wasn’t enough for you. What more could you have wanted from me?” My voice cracks as the pain slips through. “My life?”
His face darkens. “That was the bargain, Amara,” he thunders, slamming his staff into the floor.
The gnarled wood, etched with ancient runes, rings out with a sharp crack that reverberates through the hall. But it’s the crack inside me that shatters the most. A hollow, unbearable pain that seizes my chest, twisting and pulling until I can barely breathe.
For a moment, I can’t speak, can’t think.
I feel something break, something deep and vital.
“You…you knew?” My voice trembles, barely a whisper.
Tovar’s gaze falters, and the room falls into a heavy silence, all eyes turning toward him, waiting for an answer he can no longer hide.
Tovar’s words hang in the air, empty and hollow. “I knew only what I was told,” he says, his eyes flickering, unable to meet mine. “That you may not return, but that your sacrifice would guarantee our protection.”
My sacrifice.
The bitter laugh escapes before I can stop it, sharp and biting.
“Sacrifice?” I repeat, the word tasting like ash on my tongue. “You throw that word around as if it means nothing. But I know its meaning, Keeper.” My hand moves to my chest, clutching the weight of everything I’ve lost—my freedom, my trust, my innocence. “Far better than you ever will.”
“Tovar,” Erania says, her voice low, her disappointment heavy. “This is unacceptable. If you willingly sent Amara to her death, there must be consequences.”
“I will show him the consequences,” Arax says, calm as ever, yet the sound of his sword sliding free from its sheath cuts through the tension like steel on bone.
Tovar staggers back, his face paling, his back pressed against the wall as we close in. “I did what I had to,” he pleads, his voice cracking. “As Keeper, it is my duty to protect The Tenders. To protect the Souls. To protect The Grove. Why dononeof you understand? I was willing to give them our Jewel, our Amara, who I love as my own daughter.”
“You are not worthy to call her that,” Arax growls, his sword raised, ready to deliver justice. The Keeper flinches, cowering in the shadow of the blade.
And then, silently, I reach out and place my hand on Arax’s arm. His dark eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see the tide of rage he’s holding back, barely restrained. Slowly, his arm lowers, and with reluctance, the sword slides back into its sheath.
“Look at what I’ve done for you, Amara,” Tovar insists, his voice dripping with arrogance as he clings to his delusions. “I gave you power. You have Fae who serve you now, because I made you their queen. Use this power, and save us!”
His words sting. His betrayal stings deeper.
“I am not their queen,” I say, my voice steady, though my heart is anything but. “They are not here because of you. They are here because they are my friends. They have fought for me in ways you never did, even when you claimed to be my father. You signed away my life as if it meant nothing.”
Erania stands beside me, her eyes dark with fury. “It was you who was wronged, Jewel. You should decide Tovar’s punishment.”
“I am Keeper Tovar!” he yells, his entire body trembling with rage and fear. “You cannot strip me of my title.”
“That title is the first thing you’ve lost,” Erania says coldly, her words sharp and final. “Our Jewel will decide what’s next.”
From the corner of the room, Zyphoro smirks, leaning lazily against the wall as she inspects her nails. “Kill him,” she says, her tone as casual as if she were discussing the weather. “It seems the quickest solution.”
“I actually agree with her,” Solena chimes in, her jaw tight, her voice laced with disgust.
It would be so easy. So simple to end him. After everything he’s done, everything he’s taken from me—the trust I once had in him as a father, the belief that he truly cared for me—ending him would feel like justice. He betrayed not just The Tenders as their guide, but me, as the girl who believed he loved her. The part of me that has been hurt and hardened screams for blood.For revenge.
But something stops me. The anger coursing through me, the sharp sting of betrayal, it burns deep—but this isn’t who I am. I glance at Arax, at Solena, at Zyphoro, and I think about the choices they’ve made, the loyalties they’ve shown, the battles they’ve fought beside me. I think about Arax, holding on to love and hope, despite everything that has been taken from him. I am not the monster Tovar has become, or the one Lanneth has always been. I am better than that. I have to be.
“I could end this,” I say, my voice quieter now. “I could kill you, and it would be justified. But I won’t.” My words hang heavy in the air, thick with emotion. “Not because you deserve mercy, Tovar, but because I won’t let you turn me into someone who revels in that kind of power.”
Tovar’s eyes widen in disbelief as I step away, and the room seems to breathe again, the tension loosening.
“Your punishment,” I say, my voice steady now, “is to live knowing that you betrayed the very people you swore to protect. And that you will never hold power here again. You are banished from The Grove.”
