Varyth’s entire being burned with rage,with hatred, withpromised vengeance.
He knelt, bound hands curled into fists, his chest rising and falling in harsh, furious breaths.
Every part of himradiatedviolence, a quiet, simmering promise that if he made it out of this alive, he would rip Xyliria apart with hisbare hands.
And then?—
Linc.
Linc, who wasn’t trembling. Who wasn’traging.
Blood trickled from his mouth and nose, but his eyes met mine. Resigned. Accepting.
A breath shuddered from my lips as Iunderstood.
Heknew. He knew I wouldn’t choose Varyth. That Icouldn’t. Not when Xyliria wanted nothing more than to see me shatter, to watch mecarve my own soul into pieces.
Linc was telling me it was okay. That he understood. That I had to do what needed to be done.
I took a step toward him.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Varyth’s snarl was guttural, warning.
The weight of the dagger in my hand was unbearable.
I trembled.
I couldn’t do this.
Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move.
Xyliria was drinking in every second of my agony.
“You’re dragging this out longer than necessary, darling,” she sighed, long-suffering, shaking her head with mock disappointment. “Do you need some encouragement?”
I had a second to process before she lifted her hand.
Magic coiled through the air, and then it struck.
Fenric screamed. He jerked violently, his back arching, his breath strangled as invisible forces tightened around him.
No.
The word tore from my chest like a blade ripping upward, slicing through my ribs, shredding everything in its path.
The magic wrapped around Fenric like living chains, crimson threads of agony that ate through flesh and bone. His back arched, spine bowing until I thought it might snap, his bound hands clawing at nothing, at air, at the impossible weight of pain that was devouring him alive.
But it was Linc who destroyed me.
Linc, who had been so still, so resigned, so fuckingnobleabout dying—Linc exploded.
The chains around his wrists snapped like brittle twigs as he lunged forward, nothing left of him but pure, feral rage. Hehit the stone hard, scrambling, crawling, as he dragged himself toward Fenric with the desperate violence of someone watching their soul being torn apart.
“Stop!” Linc roared. “Stop, you fuckingbitch, take me instead!”
But the guards were already there, slamming him back, pinning him down as he thrashed like a wild thing. And still Fenric screamed, that horrible, wet sound that meant the magic was finding soft places to burrow.
Fenric collapsed, gasping, blood trickling from his nose, his mouth, his eyes. But he was breathing.Still breathing.
