“No.” The word comes out sharp. I modulate my tone, make it reassuring. “The Oath recognizes only willing consent. Coercion would cause the chamber to reject the attempt entirely.”
True, as far as it goes. What I don’t mention is that willing consent can be… cultivated. Encouraged. That hunger and fear and need can make choices feel inevitable when they’re really just seductive.
“But she doesn’t understand any of this,” Wes says, and there’s something raw in his voice. “She doesn’t know what she’s walking into.”
“No,” I agree. “She doesn’t.”
And that innocence is part of what makes her so compelling. Bree approaches her power like someone discovering fire—awed, afraid, but unable to resist reaching toward the flame. When she finally understands the true scope of what the Oath offers, when she feels the pull of becoming something larger than herself…
I find myself curious which path she’ll choose. Fusion would make her magnificent—terrible and complete, a force that could reshape the magical world. But separation would leave room for bonds, for connection, for the kind of intimacy that feeds something deeper than simple hunger.
Both possibilities fascinate me in different ways.
“What happens to the chamber if she refuses?” Gray asks. “If she just… walks away?”
Thane and I exchange a look. This is the question I hoped they wouldn’t ask.
“The chamber has been awakened,” I say carefully. “It has tasted Ether, recognized bloodline. Walking away isn’t really an option anymore.”
The silence that follows carries the weight of understanding. Not just that Bree faces a choice, but that the choice is inevitable. The Oath will have her answer, one way or another.
Mairen finally moves, setting down a plate of perfectly golden pancakes with deliberate gentleness. The domestic gesture feels surreal against the backdrop of ancient magic and impossible choices. Golden pancakes cooling between us, and yet the taste in the air is ash.
“You’ll need to decide soon,” Thane says quietly as he locks eyes with Bree. “The longer the chamber waits, the more unstable it becomes. And there are… other parties who might take interest in what’s been awakened. Not all of them want this power returned to the world.”
I keep my expression neutral, but inside, something sharp and hungry unfurls. “Correct,” I say simply. “Others will come. There are those who would kill for the chance at the Oath, and others who would kill to keep it buried. Some prefer their myths to stay mythical, even when they know the truth.”
And if the rumors I’ve been tracking are true, if there really is something moving in the spaces between realms…
The thought of Bree caught between competing hungers, forced to choose not just paths but protectors, sends heat through my veins.
“We protect her,” Rhett says, and it’s not a question.
“You protect each other,” Bree corrects, and there’s something almost commanding in her tone. “I won’t hide behind anyone anymore. If I’m going to do this—” She pauses, the mist around her pulsing once like a heartbeat. “When I do this, I do it as myself. All of myself.”
“Of course,” I agree smoothly. “But protection and guidance aren’t the same thing. You’ll need to understand your options fully before you choose.”
What I don’t say: I intend to be part of that understanding. To help her see not just the risks, but the rewards. The exquisite possibility of becoming something more than human fear and mortal limitation.
The chamber has been waiting for centuries.
And now, so am I—watching, patient, hungry for the moment she finally chooses.
Chapter 35
Rhett
I’m nervous.
I raise my hand to knock, then drop it and pace to the other end of the hallway. “This is stupid,” I mutter under my breath. The sanctuary is quiet, everyone else finally asleep after today’s revelations about the Ashen Oath, about Riley, about the choice that’s coming whether we’re ready or not.
But that’s not why I’m here, standing outside her door like some lovesick teenager.
“What the hell is your problem?” I shake my head, stepping back in front of her door. It’s just Bree. Bree, who I’ve known for years. Bree, who I’ve been keeping careful distance from because I’m terrified of making things worse.
I take a breath and raise my hand again to knock.
Then drop it again.
