She was his eternal bliss. For her, he would face anything.
So he kept going. Through the shame and regret and sadness, Isla’s love was like a shield, protecting him from his worst self.
He climbed to the next death. The next. The next.
How they begged. How they fought. How they pleaded.
Over and over and over, he felt it all, crashing into him like a relentless wave, trying to pull him off this cliff. Centuries before, it would be enough to ruin him, to make him give up, to make him lose his grip on this rockface. But Isla was a rope, pulling him upward.
Reliving centuries worth of killing must have taken hours. Maybe days. He didn’t know. It was still dark when he could finally see the edge of the cliff above him. He was almost at the top. His heart soared with hope.
“So,” a familiar voice said. “You decided to try and claim Infinite.”
He would know that voice anywhere.
Laila. His sister.
He blinked and his hands were far smaller, far smoother, as they moved up a snowy hill instead of a jagged rockface. He swallowed. Still, he continued, climbing with far less strength, before he finally reached the top of the frost-slicked mountain.
And there she was. Her cat-like eyes were twinkling with mischief. He took a shuddering breath, seeing her. He almost couldn’t move. Laila was the one who had first told him about the diamond, about whatinfinitemeant.
His sister sighed impatiently, shaking her head, her crudely cut hair swinging. “What is it? Still feel guilty for what you did to me?”
Of course, he still felt guilty. That guilt had nearly eaten him alive over the centuries. It was why he had turned his emotions off for years. The pain had been too great.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice that of a child. Of the twelve-year-old boy who had killed his sister when he lost control of his shadows. He was never meant to be the one who lived. He had always wanted it to be her.
Laila took a step toward him, and her smile dropped. “Sorry doesn’t bring me back,” she hissed, taking another step. “You knew I wanted to be ruler. You knew I would have put our realm above everything.”
“I know,” he said, meaning it. “I never wanted this.”
She laughed, her head falling back. He could see the faint scars along her throat. “Yet, this is how it is.” Her cold eyes met his. “You promised yourself my death would not be for nothing. That you would follow your duty to protect our people.”
It was true. It was the only way he could keep going, past his hatred for his father. Past his hatred forhimself, over what he had done.
Laila sneered at him. “Now, look at you. Beholden to one woman. Willing to risk everyone and everything for her life.”
In a flash, all those scars on her body broke open. Her throat was suddenly sliced across and gushing blood. Crimson began to seep through her clothes, until it was dripping onto the snow, dark and glittering.
“What about my life?” his sister asked, choking on the words. “What about the life you took from me?”
Grim couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. His body was numb, and he—no. It was too much, seeing her like this. Seeing what he had done.
She lurched toward him. He managed to break free from his panic to stumble back and heard ice falling down the steep slope of the hill. It clattered down the cliffside.
Laila didn’t stop. She surged closer and closer until Grim was nearly at the hill’s edge, and he could smell the blood on her. It puddled toward his boots. “What about our realm?” she demanded. “What about our legacy? What about all of us who died for you to become heir?”
He took another step back. He could feel the wind behind him.
She huffed a cruel laugh. “You bound your life to hers, and now every single person in your realm is at risk.” She looked at him with nothing short of disgust. “Father always said love kills kingdoms. Congratulations. It seems you’re close.”
Then, she shoved him right off the edge.
As Grim plummeted, reality suddenly returned to his vision and he saw a rush of black, his hands sliding down the rock—no. He gripped the wall with all his might, skin shredding in the process, and managed to stop his descent. His legs swung in the open air beneath him, his stomach turning.
Too close.
With a groan, he hauled himself higher, his palms slick with blood, his arms trembling. He found placements for his feet. His heart wasracing, right against the rockface. He closed his eyes against the memories, against the pain.
