I bolted upstairs, hastily gathering a small satchel of belongings. I needed to hide until the next full moon—to vanish through time. But where?
I turned impulsively and crept back down, unable to resist checking on Malik. As I passed Balthazar’s collapsed form, I hesitated. His mouth hung open, and his snores vibrated the walls like tremors.
I leaned close, letting vitriol lace every word.
“I’m sorry, Balthazar. You’ll never have the blades. I’m done with your obsession, your false love, and your pathetic talk of children. I want power. Real power. And now I’ll have it. You made me embrace my wickedness—and now I’ll show you what that means.”
With that, I turned and descended into the dungeon.
I opened the small viewing portal to Malik’s cell, safely shielded behind thick glass.
He was slumped against the wall, cradling Layla’s lifeless body. They are entwined like tragic sculptures carved from blood and shadow.
A small pang twisted in my gut. He did love her.
But then I shook it off.
Good riddance. This world didn’t need another tragic love story.
Then, his eyes snapped open.
I flinched.
“You’re still alive,” I whispered, stunned. “How is that possible?”
Malik shifted slightly, his movements sluggish, pained. “He’s using you,” he rasped.
“Who?” I asked, though I already knew.
“Balthazar,” Malik rasped. “He raised me. I know him. Better than you ever will.”
His words sliced through me, jagged and cruel.
But I didn’t flinch.
“I know him intimately,” I replied, cold as ice. “I know what makes him bleed.”
A faint, broken laugh slipped from his bloodied lips. “Keep telling yourself that. You need to get away from him. Find the daggers.”
My pulse stuttered. “Do you know where they are?”
His eyes fluttered shut.
“Malik!” I hissed. “Malik, damn you!”
I was ready to slam the portal closed when a hoarse whisper crawled through the crack.
“Find John James. In the Americas. Seventeenth century.” A pause. Then, “He can help you.”
His head sagged. Layla slipped from his arms like a broken doll. His chest stilled. The final breath left him, and he joined her in the void.
But I had what I needed.
I tore up the dungeon steps, my breath ragged, footsteps echoing like war drums. At the landing, I froze. Listened.
Balthazar’s snores rumbled through the silence—deep, monstrous, content.
Good.
