We leave the tumult behind, moving through the doors and into the corridor. Frane doesn’t look back, her fingers biting into my skin as she drags me along. I struggle to keep pace.
“Wait,” I say, breathless. “Slow down.”
She doesn’t respond, quickening her pace until we reach a balcony and when she pulls me outside, the rain hits my face like a thousand tiny daggers.
“What are we doing out here?” I ask, anxiety twisting in my gut.
Frane remains silent, her grip unyielding as she drags me toward the edge of the balcony. I struggle against her hold, planting my feet to resist her pull, but she inches me closer to the precipice.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited to become a Reaper?” she finally snaps, her gaze fixed ahead as she storms on. “I will not lose it now. I refuse to watch our great houses crumble because of a pathetic human.”
When we reach the edge, Frane pulls me close, her fingers digging into the back of my neck like iron shackles. I lash out, throwing my hands at her, but they only clang against the hard steel of her armor. My screams dissolve in the roar of the ocean crashing against the jagged rocks below.
“I’ll say you ran and slipped,” she says, her tone disturbingly calm, as if she’s rehearsed this moment a hundred times. “There will be initial unrest, but soon enough, everyone will agree it was for the best.”
With a swift motion, she thrusts me forward, and my body tips over the railing. My upper body dangles precariously as I gaze down at the tumultuous waves thrashing against the cliffs, ready to devour me.
“Daed will kill you for this,” I snarl, summoning every ounce of strength to fight against her.
“The prince is clouded by your charms,” she hisses, pushing me further over the edge. “Once you’re gone, we Mordorin will unite to fight the Legion. As one.” Her eyes gleam with a feral satisfaction. “At least it will be quick. That’s a mercy.”
In that instant, desperation fuels my instincts. As I twist, I grab her wrist, the cold metal of her armor biting into my palm. I pull with all my might, and the world tilts as Frane loses her balance. We tumble over the railing together.
Time slows as we plummet through the air, the wind howling past us, my heart thundering in my chest like a war drum. Suddenly, the runes etched on Frane’s collarbone flare to life, glowing with an otherworldly light as her wings burst from her back. With a powerful flap, she ascends, her laughter echoing in the storm, leaving me to continue my descent.
As I brace for impact, I close my eyes, whispering a silent hope that Frane was right about one thing:that it will be quick.
But instead of colliding with the jagged rocks below, I come to a jarring halt. My eyes flicker open to find Arax cradling me in his arms, his wings beating against the rain.
“Princess. Are you alright?” His voice is a low rumble, filled with concern.
Relief floods over me as I curl against his chest, trembling. With powerful strokes, he lifts us back toward the balcony, and he gently sets me down on the stone.
“This human continues to be your downfall, Arax,” Frane sneers, hovering above us like a vulture. “I once admired you. Considered you one of the greatest Reapers to ever live. How disappointing you’ve turned out to be.”
Arax wipes the rain from his brow, fury igniting in his gaze as he glances up at Frane. “Enough of this. You will tell the prince what you’ve done and face his justice.”
Frane’s smile is sharp and menacing as she draws her sword from its sheath, the blade gleaming with deadly intent. “I think not. Instead, I’ll kill you both in his name.”
With a roar that reverberates through the air, they charge at each other, the clash of their weapons ringing out like thunder.My breath catches in my throat as they collide midair, a fierce whirlwind of wings and steel.
Frane spins through the air, her movements fluid and deadly. She strikes first, her blade flashing as it narrowly misses Arax’s throat and he counters with a swift upward arc, his wings propelling him with precision. The two of them twirl through the rain, the sky becoming their battleground.
They clash again, and I can feel the heat of their anger radiating outwards.
Frane feints left and then lunges to the right, her blade finding a gap in Arax's armor, stabbing deep under his arm. “You think you can protect her?” she sneers, twisting the blade, eliciting a pained grunt from him.
Blood mixes with the rain, and my stomach drops as I see him falter mid-air, spiraling downward. He fights against the momentum, wings flaring wide as he struggles to regain control. He lands heavily on the balcony, the impact rattling the stones beneath us while Frane lands beside him, a predatory glint in her eyes.
“You’re nothing but a foolish old Fae,” she taunts, kicking Arax’s sword away, sending it clattering out of reach. Straddling him, she raises her blade, poised to deliver the final blow. My heart races, panic clawing at my insides as I watch, helpless.
But Arax’s eyes blaze with defiance, even as pain darkens his features. He shifts beneath her, channeling his energy. Suddenly his arm transforms into swirling smoke that drifts through Frane as if she were made of nothing more than air.
She looks momentarily bewildered, confusion flickering in her eyes. But before she can react, Arax’s arm solidifies within her, and in a swift, brutal motion, he thrusts it forward, impaling her.
I gasp, my heart lurching in horror, and instinctively turn away as a spray of blood arcs through the air, splattering the stone. When I dare to look back, the scene is etched into mymind: Arax’s arm, slick and crimson, now free from her lifeless body as Frane lies motionless on the balcony, the relentless rain washing away the remnants of her fury, leaving only silence in its wake.
Arax attempts to rise, but he falters, collapsing to one knee. My heart races as I rush to his side, panic tightening my chest when I see the blood seeping from beneath his arm. His face drains of color, and his eyes begin to glaze over, like fading stars against a darkening sky.
