And who, truly, would miss her?
Hagan had never loved her. She had been a pawn in his schemes, little more. Her sisters loved her, in their own fractured, poisonous way. But even they would not shed tears if she were swallowed by the dunes.
Ash loathed her. Alina even more so.
And Kai…
She refused to allow herself the luxury of hope when it came to Kai Blackburn. She had witnessed the softness in his stare, the way his dark eyes lingered on her when he thought she wouldn’t notice. She had caught the silent glances, the subtle care in his voice. And gods help her, she had basked in it. She had let herself feel warmth where there should have only been caution.
But it was wrong. All of it.
Because if he ever discovered the truth, if he unearthed her purpose, her deception, there would be no warmth left in his eyes.
Only ruin.
Dawn trudged towards a gap nestled between two rugged hills, the landscape stretching out before her in true phoenixian fashion—sand-strewn and sun-scorched, scattered with craggy rocks and distant mountains like bones of the earth laid bare. Perhaps there would be a cave tucked somewhere in the stone’s embrace, a place to rest her weary limbs and let tomorrow bring what it would. Sooner or later, she’d have to crawl back to Hagan, empty-handed, confessing that she had failed tocomplete the task he had set before her. Only the gods knew what punishment awaited her for such failure. But that was a torment for another day. Tonight, she had simpler concerns. Like where she might sleep.
She passed between the stony hills, her boots brushing against loose gravel and her thoughts wandering as freely as her feet. Maybe it was foolish not to disguise herself. Wandering these lands with a witch’s face and witch’s eyes was a death wish. But the desert seemed devoid of life, hollow and silent as a tomb. There was no one to see her, no one to care.
As the shadows deepened and night took the sky, she lifted her hand to her lips and blew. A flicker of green fire bloomed in her palm, floating like a ghostly ember, casting its eerie light over the sands. She pressed on, frowning as her foot sank into a patch of loose earth. Beneath it, hidden by the sand, yawned a narrow drop. A hole in the rock that plunged deep into darkness. She whistled softly at the depth, a quiet warning to herself. The desert, it seemed, had teeth.
She tread more cautiously until her gaze caught sight of a small cave tucked in the arms of the hill ahead. Relief blossomed in her chest, and she quickened her pace. Perhaps the gods had not wholly abandoned her. Perhaps she didn’t need anyone. Not her sisters. Not the witches.
Not Kai Blackburn.
The thought of never seeing him again struck like a blade. But no. She would not allow herself to feel such softness for him. What would be the point? He would only turn against her once the truth surfaced, just as Ash Acheron had done.
Ash, her first love. Her truest heartbreak. He had crushed what they’d shared, doused it in cold ash as though it had never burnt.
Her jaw tightened.
Her heart did not break. It steeled itself.
Ash had broken her in a way no one else ever could. She had bared her true face to him, laid her soul naked in trembling hope that love might be enough. That he would see the truth behind the deception and choose to forgive. But he hadn’t. He had turned away, eyes colder than winter steel, and told her he would spare her life not out of mercy, but because of what they had once shared. And then, like a blade against the throat, he had sworn that if he ever laid eyes on her again, he would sever her head from her shoulders himself.
Well.
There was one thing the Fire Prince had likely never foreseen.
Her love had curdled into venom. The heartbreak he’d dealt her had twisted into something dark, something vengeful. And from that ruin, she had risen again. Yes, she would return to him. But not in the way Kai believed. That had been a lie.
She would not go back to help Ash.
She would go back todestroyhim.
He would pay. Oh, he would pay dearly for the agony, the betrayal, the ruin he had left her in. Let the world believe she still loved him. Only Hagan knew the truth. Only he had seen the depths of her loathing. The way she despised the golden-eyed prince who had once held her heart and shattered it like glass.
Forgiveness was a foreign land she would never travel to.
A smile ghosted across her lips at the thought of killing him. She was grateful Mal Blackburn hadn’t finished the job when she’d buried a dagger in Ash’s side. That fate, that exquisite ending, belonged to her. She would be the one to watch the light flicker out in his golden eyes.
Dawn laughed at the thought, low and sharp, until her footsank into sand with no stone beneath it.
The ground vanished. The world dropped away.
And her laugh unravelled into a scream. A single, piercing sound swallowed by the vast and indifferent silence of the night.
Hades is just one more pawn in this game.
