He’s not protecting me.
He’s protectingus.
All of us.
We’re aligned
“You FOOL—” Alekir rounds on Lady Virath, and for the first time his voice cracks. Loses that ancient patience. “The cycle is correcting itself!”
“Break the circle!” She’s desperate now, firing blast after blast that my men intercept without even looking at each other. “Break her concentration!”
I’m not concentrating.
I’m not controlling this.
The alignment is controllingme.
Power pours through the bonds — into my body, through my chest, into the circle, then back again. A loop. A cycle. The way it was always meant to work.
My feet lift off the ground.
Just a few inches. Just enough to make my stomach drop.
And then the pain hits.
Searing. Pure. Like breaking through a barrier that was never meant to hold.
My wings burst from my back in a rush of heat and blinding light. Every nerve ending screams as they unfurl — massive and glorious, glowing with that same blend of violet, gold, light and shadow. Their edges ripple with the essence of every Valkyrie who chose to bind their soul to mine.
My sisters.
Light threads through the shadows. Chaos sparks at my fingertips. Fire and frost orbit my body in impossible harmony.
This is larger than me.
Older than all of us.
Alekir screams something I don’t understand — words in that ancient language, desperate and furious — but it’s too late.
The Gate is opening.
A sound like the world inhaling.
Light erupts vertically from the black stone — not sickly green anymore, butwhite. Pure. Blinding.
Snow lifts off the ground. The Nightwraiths scatter, shrieking in terror. Lady Virath shields her face. Thorne stumbles backward, finally breaking free of whatever held him in place.
Alekir stands perfectly still.
Watching.
Waiting.
And I feel it before anyone sees it.
Something stepping through.
Something ancient.
