Souls trapped in the Void,andin the iron rings.
“What can I do?”
“Tell my brother to renounce his covenant.”
Her brow knitted, a thread of confusion winding through her despair.
Thane stepped forward, his eyes urgent. "His oath with Death. Tell him to break it to?—"
Ice shot through Elara, splintering along her spine.
Her body jerked backward, her arm stretching helplessly, fingers splayed toward Thane even as she was yanked away. She tried to scream, but the sound was stolen, swallowed by shadows as she was wrenched her from that darkened vision. Her soul lurched, a brutal, sickening pull, hurling her into blinding light.
She slammed against cold stone, the impact reverberating through her spine, every nerve jolting awake. Yet her fingers clung to the Wound of Light, locked in a death grip around it. She didn’t need her eyes to know who stood before her.
She could feel their presence.
“What a dangerous little thief you’ve turned out to be,” Osin murmured.
Elara’s eyes fluttered open, her vision blurred and swimming before it focused—and her heart clenched, a searing, visceral ache.
Calista knelt before Osin, her spine straight, even as Osin's hand gripped her hair like a vice, jerking her head back. Yet even with her neck bared, her chin tilted upward, Calista’s gaze held his, burning, unbroken, like she’d spit fire if she could.
Osin’s gaze drifted to the blade in Elara's hand, his lips curling ever so slightly. “I do so despise when my belongings go wandering," he said, his eyes sliding back to her. "And you, I fear, have gone quite astray."
Her nostrils flared, a reflexive response she couldn’t control.
“Oh? You disagree?” His voice was a soft, dangerous caress. “Or have you perhaps forgotten the words of the divine?”
He is your guardian, and you, his guiding light.
Aine’s voice slithered through her mind, coiling around her like a serpent. It tightened, squeezed, until her head swam. How easily she’d believed them—clinging to the idea that shewas chosen, that her purpose was tied to something noble, something the gods had deemed meaningful, that her suffering had meantsomething.
Osin’s gaze held that quiet, terrible patience, shadows curling around him. Waiting. Expecting her submission.
She’d die before she let him take one more piece of her.
In that moment, she was more than herself; she was the embodiment of every silent fury, of every suppressed scream, of every ounce of strength mustered in the face of insurmountable odds.
“I belong tono one."
He only laughed.
"Now we both knowthatisn't true."
A torrent of Legionnaires poured through the gaping mouth of the cave. The thunderous roar echoed down the twisting stone steps, reverberating into the heart of the Pit. Their helms obscured their faces, but the gleam of their eyes beneath was enough—a harsh, wrathful promise of violence.
At the forefront of the throng, Ivan emerged. He was a figure carved from obsidian, a wraith given form, the faint torchlight glinting off the edges of his pauldrons and the deadly curve of his glaive.
He stopped just behind Osin, his presence a cold, oppressive weight that seemed to drain the air from the chamber.
She kept her hands at her sides, resisting the pull to reach for theDraoth Cara—she would never touch it again. The mere thought made her sick. Her gaze locked with his, and she bit down on her lip until the metallic taste of blood touched her tongue.
The amber ring in his eyes flared—thatsamemolten gold, thatsamesearing fire she’d stared at from across her cell for weeks—a piercing arrow straight through her heart.
TheDraoth Cara, the bond—it wasn't with Ivan.
It was with theDraothhe possessed.
