It is an undeniable truth of my life. I have lived centuries—traveled through worlds and women and riches and adventure—and nothing has ever come close to how I feel with Willa. Like my heart has been misshapen my entire life—too jagged, too decayed—but when I met her, I realized it was because only half lived in my chest. It could never beat to its full extent, neverloveto its full extent, until it found the missing counterpart.
So, when Willa asks me to jump—to bind myself to my pain eternally—there is no hesitation. Only a soul-deep faith in the dark heart of the woman who has never asked me to be anything but who I am. The woman who has never shamed me for my ruthless edges and violent cravings, but instead, saw them andwantedthem.
The woman who nearly ruined not only the universe to save my life, but who tore herself apart for the sole hope of finding one another again.
And though I would lay myself down on a pyre and sacrifice everything I am for her, this…this is no sacrifice. It is the highest honor, and I would endure every level of agony the universe has to offer for it.
I go gladly to whatever awaits. I hold her hand, and leap into the lake.
The moment we break the surface, the world shatters around us.
A vibration resounds through the water, through my veins, through the universe itself. So deep and abiding, it feels as if the island is made of glass and our presence in its heart has sent it careening off a cliff, turning it to jagged dust. My muscles lock and my lungs refuse to expand in wake of the icy shock and the brutal vibration of power, and it’s all I can do to grip Willa’s hand harder in mine to keep her from being torn from me.
Because that’s what the universe has always threatened to do, isn’t it? Rip away anything beautiful and stain what remains with rot and decay?
No longer. Our love has brought us together through worlds and pain and plagues. It is enough to keep not only the ties of Letum together, but the ties ofallthings.
I open my eyes, finding Willa the most brilliant sight in the murky depths. Her caramel hair floats above her in a soft halo, her olive skin somehow not washed out by the colorless water, but enhanced by it. Her magic emanates from her heart, threading through her veins and washing over her body until we’re both encased in its ethereal glow. My death reaches for it, void threading through light, as our blood spirals around us in alternating shades of onyx and crimson.
The reverberation of power ceases, the following silence nearly as deafening.
And then the pain begins.
Chapter fifty-two
The island has awakened.
I feel it in the beat of my heart, in the pulse of my blood, in the tenor of my magic. I feel it in the tightening of Niko’s body; in the way his mouth parts with a groan of pain the water steals.
As ready as I’d been to accept the island’s power all those months ago, I hadn’t been ready to accept myself. I thought the power would fill the empty spaces; change the ones I deemed unworthy. I thought safety would smooth my jagged edges and make me more palatable.
It took being broken open—being heartbroken and desperate and faithless—to learn I cannot embrace my power without taking ownership of all those parts. For just as dreams do not exist in only happiness, neither can Letum.
Existence is contrasts. Good and evil, dark and light, beauty and pain.
The King of Carrion loved me well enough to allow me to face those things in myself. And now, I offer them up to the island, including that which is most precious to me:him.
The wound on my palm bleeds freely, unhealed, as it was put there by Niko’s hand. Our blood swirls around us like a macabre painting, as the magic of the island threads through me. This time, I don’t hide any of myself from it. I open, just as I did for the star, and through me, shines infinite possibility.
Nightmares and dreams. Endless worlds and endless adventures. Life and death.
And the most powerful of all: love. Love of the beautiful king before me. Love of our home with its wild beauty and infinite adventure. Love of the friends who have built me up when I was nothing more than wreckage, aiming my broken pieces at anyone who tried to get close.
I open, and the island takes.
For love is selfish, and selfless. It gives just as it steals, its beauty existing in both.
It is agony as magic laces between us, like needles and thread piercing our hearts to weave us together for eternity. But I am no longer afraid of the pain.
I am Willa Darling, Queen of Dreams and Consort of Death. I am broken. I am loving. I am angry. I am loyal. I am rash. I am strong. I am vulnerable.
I am the woman who vowed never to be anyone’s hope again; and I am the woman who will save hope for all the desperate. For all the broken.
I never needed to be anything else. A sense of peace settles over me as I allow the island into everything I have.
I am yours,I tell it.We are yours.
Chapter fifty-three
