But he was wrong.
She could still see him—pinned to that fucking cross, stripped of dignity, stripped of everything but pain, his blood painting the sand in halos beneath his feet.
Heart stilled. Spirit gone. Gone. Gone.
Her scream broke loose. A ragged, inhuman thing that left the coppery taste of blood in her throat.
She’d nearly destroyed the entire peninsula the moment his soul slipped free. Hunger had surged, no longer chained by his quiet presence as agony exploded in her chest like a thousand knives turned inward.
He’d held it back while he lived, and now it sank its teeth into her heart and dragged her under.
“Lucky bastard.” The words came out on a sob.
He had escaped this cursed fucking world.
Empty Night cried beneath her, the stallion’s muscles bunching, lather slick against black hide. Blood streaked her flanks where Rynna had torn into her flesh.
“I’m sorry.” She wrenched her hands back as if burned, flinging herself sideways from the saddle.
The ground didn’t catch her, so much as slap her. She hit hard, shoulder first, then hip, ribs crumpling under her own weight as the earth rose like a hammer. The air snapped from her lungs in a wet, choking gasp.
Empty Night skidded to a halt, snorting, hooves carving lines in the dunes. She turned, watching Rynna, then stepped toward her.
“No!” Rynna’s voice broke. “Stay back!”
She shrank inward, hands clutching her head, fangs slicing through her lower lip as the fire rose again. Rage, shame, and desperation stitched together over countless centuries, it coiled around her heart, bright and blistering, waiting to erupt.
“Run.” The word was barely formed. “Run!”
Empty Night hesitated, blood streaking her side, gleaming in the moonlight.
Rynna squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the monster back in its cage, forcing herself to remember. Joshua’s hand in hers. His smile. His voice against her neck in those last fragile days before everything shattered.
She was not a monster. Yet. But the fire didn’t care. It burned. And soon, it would break free.
“Go.” She choked on it. “Please. Just go.”
Empty Night didn’t move, though. The mare’s dark eyes stayed steady on her rider, one hoof worrying the sand.
“Go to the Unseelie. You’ll always have a home there.” Rynna grit her teeth. “Please. I don’t want to hurt you.”
The flames climbed higher, searing up from Rynna’s chest until they licked behind her eyes, painting the world in blood and ruin. Her vision splintered, red drowning out shape and shadow. Flames danced across her skin, curling between her fingers like silk threads unraveling.
“I can’t hold it back much longer.” Her mind frayed at the edges where flesh met hunger and hunger met grief.
Still, Empty Night stayed.
“Fuck!” The roar tore from her, monstrous and full of teeth. It shook the dunes beneath them.
She staggered forward, jaws aching to split wide and tear something—anything—apart. If the damn horse wouldn’t leave, then maybe she needed to give her a better reason. Her muscles tensed, ready to pounce on the stupid animal, when something yanked her to a halt.
Her head jerked sideways, eyes straining. Yet she found nothing there. No hand. No rope. Just emptiness. Just the tightening snare of unseen threads digging deeper beneath her skin.
Invisible, but she felt them all the same—barbed and cruel, sinking deep into muscle, wrapping tight around bone. Her arms wrenched wide, spine arched, and limbs pulled taut like a marionette forced upright.
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t even flinch.
“What now?” She bared her teeth at the swollen, indifferent moon. “Come on, then. Fucking finish it.”
