“Lev Veronin. Warrior of the South. You’ve been granted the right to choose the manner of your death.”
I draw my blade. The room stills. Even the air stops moving. His one good eye meets mine, and for a split second, I see the man he once was—the one young Sovereigns grew up hearing stories about.
The Shadow.
A man even the Commanders feared. And now he’s nothing but blood and memory.
His lips twitch into a faint smile. “Do it.”
I press the blade to his heart. His body stills. His eye closes. I drive the knife deep into his chest.
“NO!”
The scream rips through the room. Arlo bursts in, her voice breaking. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? STOP!” She lunges, but Arsen grabs her before she reaches the bed. She thrashes, kicking, clawing, screaming.
“PRIEST, YOU MOTHERFUCKER! STOP!”
Lev’s eye flutters open and he looks toward her. Tries to speak, but fails. His lips tremble, his chest rattles, and that’s it.
Silence.
I yank the blade free and his blood coats my hands. Arsen releases Arlo, and she collapses to her knees beside the bed, sobbing.
“Dad, please…please, no…” Her fingers clutch at his shirt, shaking him. “You promised. You promised you’d come back to me.” Her voice cracks. “Priest, you fucking monster! How could you do this? To him? Tome?”
The word hits harder than the fists that follow.Monster.
She flies at me, pounding her fists against my chest. I let her. I could stop her with a single move—but I don’t.
Because she’s right.
I am a monster.
Born for this. Built for this.
Every breath I take costs someone else theirs. Every life I touch ends in ruin. But this…this is different. I’ve felt bullets tear through muscle. I’ve shattered bones with my bare hands. I’ve heard men scream as they bled out, cried for their mothers, begged for their gods.
But this sound?Hersobs. It doesn’t echo. Itsinks.
Right into the hollow space in my chest where nothing is supposed to live. Where it’s always been empty. Where everyflicker of feeling was carved out. And now, as she collapses beside her father’s corpse, whispering words I can’t hear through the tears, I feel it surge.
Not guilt.
Not remorse.
Something worse.
Because it feelsreal. I don’t understand it. I don’t want to. But it’s there.
And it’s hers.
I just stand there. Covered in his blood. Drenched in what I am. A weapon. A curse. I told her once that death is all I bring. And tonight, I proved it.
Because I was made for this—for endings.
My knuckles split against his chest. I don’t feel it. Not the skin tearing. Not the blood. All I feel is the rage burning through my veins. I’m screaming, but the sound doesn’t sound like me. Arsen’s arms close around my waist, dragging me back. I thrash wildly, kicking, clawing, doing anything I can to break free. To get to him. To tear him apart.
“Let me go! I’m going to kill him! Let me go!”
