Heavy.
Binding.
Right.
Cleo’s grip tightened in mine.
As his voice echoed into silence, I turned my gaze back to the Rift.
It was closed.
But not quiet.
Notgone.
Deep inside, beyond the threshold where light and shadow had danced their final war, something stirred.
Not a creature.
Not a nightmare.
Awill.
Awake.
Waiting.
Cleo felt it too—I saw it in her eyes.
It would come.
And when it did, we’d be ready.
Because now… we were more than cursed.
We were bound.
Andwe burned.
Together.
16
Epilogue
~ Cleo, Three Weeks Later ~
The wind off the eastern cliffs smelled like salt and sunlight and summer.
I stood on the balcony of The Spire’s highest tower, looking out across the sea of clouds as the first rays of dawn lit the world in gold. The Spire had more scars now—burned stone, fractured runes—but it still stood. And so did we.
Behind me, Devin was naked in our bed, pretending to be asleep.
He never slept deeply, not really. Not with the Rift’s echoes always whispering at the back of his mind. But he liked to lie in bed after sunrise, sheets tangled around his hips, watching me through half-lidded eyes like a dragon guarding treasure.
He called it peace.
I called it heaven.
