“I-I’m the last one left,” I manage.
‘Willing to gamble the fate of your entire race,’she muses, tilting her head. I drop my gaze, unable to withstand the weight of her stare.
‘And you deem yourself worthy of my power?’
Her tone drips with the promise of a trap.
“I… I hope so.”
‘And you believe your heart is pure?’
My breath catches. After a moment, I force myself to nod.
She considers me for one long, unreadable beat.
Then her lips curl.
‘Okay,’she purrs, tightening her grip on my hand.‘We’ll see.’
She seizes my head with both hands and forces me downward. My body yields instantly, sinking until I’m lying half-submerged in the water, its cold surface trembling beneath me. Her shadow falls over my face, her gaze a weight heavier than her grip.
‘The water will decide.’
Chapter Thirty-Five
The water brushes along my back like melting ice, tracing my spine with delicate, freezing fingers. Yet my body feels numb to it—too rigid with fear to dare a single movement. Only my lungs seem brave enough to keep fighting, dragging in the thin, trembling air around us.
Judged by the water—as though it were a sentient thing—it creeps around me in shallow waves. Still, some part of me feels as if I’m sinking into an unseen depth.
“It seems death and destruction follow you…”
Lunaris’ voice ripples through the pool, sending shivers across the surface. My jaw locks tight; I couldn’t answer even if I tried. Perhaps the water has already chosen my fate and begun its paralysis.
“How could someone pure of heart cause such pain?”
The question drops into me like a stone hurled into black water, dragging my thoughts down with it.
Was I foolish to believe I could be the one to wield this power—the power of a God?
A dry, bitter laugh forces its way between my clenched teeth. Even the idea feels absurd now. I had been right all along. I’m not worthy.
No one is.
‘I’ve seen all I need to see.”
My chest jerks upward, as if an unseen ribbon cinched around my waist is yanking me upright. Lunaris’s face is unreadable, carved from moonlight and shadow, but dread coils in my stomach. She’s going to tell me I’m unworthy. That the world will fall, and I’ll be trapped here—petrified like the others.
She turns her back on me and begins walking toward her throne.
“Wait!”
My voice cracks through the whiteness. She pauses mid-stride, turning slowly. Amusement plays at the edges of her expression, like she’s watching a child attempt something impossible.
“I know I may not be pure of heart,” I say, swallowing against the tightness in my throat, “but I really need this gem. The whole world depends on it.”
‘Well,’she murmurs, ‘colour me intrigued.’
“Nyxos—he’s escaping. There’s a part of him out there.” I point to where I imagine the outside world must be. “A Siphon. It’s draining the sun, and he has my friends. He won’t stop until he’s gathered enough energy to break Nyxos free and then—”
