Calista pressed her lips together. “No. He takes that memory from us. Leaves pieces for some, nothing for others. He...” Her voice faltered, and then she stopped, like she physically couldn’t bring herself to go on.
“I’m going to kill him, Calista. He doesn’t get to walk away from this. Everything he’s taken from you, from me, fromeveryone—I’ll carve it back out of him.”
The words left her lips like a vow, her rage bleeding into the air around her. Anger, hurt, every ache of helplessness—everything that had broken her over and over again—it all merged into a fire so fierce she felt it would tear her apart if she didn’t let it free.
Calista's eyes gleamed, and slowly, she nodded. “I’ll help you,” she said, “But only on one condition.”
Elara held her breath, heart pounding. She could see it in her eyes, knew the answer before she even spoke.
“I get the final blow.”
Chapter 52
“The winter solstice is less than a week away. It’s the perfect moment. He’ll drug the guests—he always does. Fills the air with enough poison to leave half the room stumbling and senseless by night’s end.” Calista crossed her arms, giving Elara a pointed look. “And him? He’ll be just as lost in it as the rest. Drunk. Drugged.Vulnerable. That’s when we move. It’s the best chance we’ll get.”
Elara nodded slowly, her mind already spinning with possibilities. Itwouldbe the perfect moment. Osin expected her presence—there’d be no need for an elaborate escape from her cell. “And the dagger?” she asked, her thoughts churning, mapping the steps, the timing. “How do we know he won’t keep it on him?”
Calista leaned forward, her green eyes glinting like emeralds in the firelight. “I’ll take him to his chambers near the end of the night. Get him drunk. Comfortable. I'll make sure he leaves the dagger behind.”
Elara’s stomach twisted at the thought. “I don’t want you to do that?—”
“One more time,” Calista interrupted, her voice sharp but quiet, like she had already made peace with it. “Onemore time, and it’s done.”
There was no hesitation, no softness—just a steel resolve that dared Elara to argue. She wouldn’t. But still, deep down, she told herself it wouldn’t come to that. Maybe she could find another way.
Calista’s eyes swept the room before settling back on her. “When they ask, tell them I slipped away in the night, after you’d fallen asleep.”
Elara blinked, her brow knitting, but before she could respond, Calista turned away. She didn’t look back, didn’t offer so much as a goodbye. A faint hum of power rippled through the air as she opened up a rift and stepped through.
It wasn’t the violent tear Elara herself managed after hours of effort. It was graceful, effortless. A sting of envy shot through her. But beneath it, something else stirred. An idea.
A dangerous, simmering spark.
She sank to the floor, legs folding beneath her, and closed her eyes. Breath by breath, she slowed herself—steady in, steady out—until the world receded. This couldn’t be hurried. The Draoth Cara answered only to patience, to stillness, to a quiet surrender rather than force.
Her breathing deepened. Her pulse eased. Beneath it all, she felt it—the faintest hum, a whisper in the back of her mind. She sharpened her focus, drawing it closer without pressing. The thrum stirred in her veins, soft at first, then stronger, unfurling through her like a slow, winding current.
It took time—too much time. Half an hour, maybe more, before the hum coalesced into a beat, a steady rhythm she could follow. Her fingers twitched as the connection tightened.
“Focus on the seams,” she could almost hear the Hunter say. “Like a fracture in glass—apply pressure at just the right point, and the rift will form cleanly.”
Elara steadied her breath, picturing the rift as a gentle parting of layers. She reached out, searching for the faint tension—a fragile thread waiting to be caught.
Carefully, she pulled.
A jolt rippled through her as the seam between realms buckled. The air shuddered, bending and twisting before tearing open with a sigh. The rift spread wide, its edges trembling.
“Holy gods,” Elara breathed, the words barely audible over the pounding of her heart. She’d done it. Despite the distance, despite everything, she’d torn the rift open. Her chest heaved, a chaotic mix of pride, exhilaration, and something she couldn’t quite name—something raw and terrifying.I could go anywhere.
Anywhere.
She stood, pulling theDraoth Caracloser, wrapping it around herself like armor, and stepped into the Void.
The world fell away, leaving nothing but weightlessness and silence. The absence of sound was disorienting, a stillness so absolute it made her head spin. Almost instantly, the pull began—a subtle but persistent tug in the marrow of her bones, drawing her toward her destination.
TheDraothCarathrummed beneath her skin, a guide through the uncharted dark. She focused on that hum, tuning herself to its rhythm, letting it become her compass.
And then—there. A faint glimmer, so faint she almost missed it. A sliver of light, slicing through the darkness like a thread of spun silk.
