I want to stay here, in this quiet moment where I’m just a woman in the arms of a man who doesn’t see me as broken. But I’ve learned that nothing in this world lasts—not warmth, not safety, not people. As Kael’s arms tighten around me and his steady breaths lull me toward sleep, I let myself imagine, just for tonight, that this could be different.
Even as sleep pulls me under, a voice inside whispers: nothing this tender ever lasts.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
ELYSSARA
My eyelids creakopen after the most peaceful slumber I can remember having in my lifetime. The room is awash with a golden glow, sunlight spilling through the crack between the heavy curtains. For a moment, I’m disoriented, unsure of where I am but certain I must surely be lying on a cloud. The memory of the previous night dawns on me like the rising sun—the warmth of his embrace, the searing intensity of his gaze, his fingers, his glistening mouth, the vulnerability that followed. My cheeks heat with both desire and the glaring reality that habitually hits after nights like that—regret, shame. Though in honesty, there have not quite beenanynights likethat, and the glaring reality feels tender this time.
I sit up slowly, the cool air brushing against my skin, and I notice the tray of food on the small table by the bed. Smoked meats, soft rounds of tangy cheese, and bread flecked with herbs. A pot of mint tea sits steaming beside the tray, its aroma sharper and fresher than any herb I’d ever known in Virellin. The food is simple by the standards of Galreth, I suppose, but to me, it feels like decadence beyond imagining. This amount of food would have fed Ronyn, Seren and me for a week in the Virellin slums—what feels likegluttony is a daily norm here. A note, folded neatly, rests beside the toppling tray. Picking it up, the handwriting is bold and precise:
Duskae,
Turn left out the front door, walk down the hallway to the last door on the right.
We’ll be waiting for you.
—K
I set the note down, glancing around the room. A sense of gratitude wells up in me, mingling with the ever-present unease. This luxury isn’t mine and it doesn’t feel like it ever could be, yet here I am.
I coax myself out of bed, biting into the last scraps of food on the tray, and stretch my arms out wide and over my head, shaking the sleep—and the memories of Kael—from my body. A strange pressure builds in my chest, sharp and insistent, before it rushes down my arm like lightning seeking release. It’s white-hot and searing, like the Stars themselves are surging through my veins.
My fingers tingle. Burn. Before I can pull back, a burst of silvery-white light erupts from my hand—a force both divine and feral, too big for bone or skin to contain.
The lamp beside me shatters in an instant, splintering into a thousand glittering fragments that disintegrate into fine, powdery dust. The dust lingers in the air, catching the sunlight like glittering flecks before settling silently on the floor. My breath hitches as I stare at the remnants, my chest tightening with a cocktail of fear and frustration.
The magic feels alive, untamed, and it frightens me more than I’m willing to admit. I press my hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing, but the echoes of that wild power linger, a reminder of just how little control I have.What if this happened around Ronyn or Seren? What if I hurt someone?The thought twists my stomach tighter than any physical wound ever could.
This has been happening more and more frequently. Since unbinding the first part of my magic with the Starforged Blade, my Lightborne magic has been...temperamental. I have no control over it—it’s unstable, as if growing restless at still being bound. A caged animal, desperate to be released. I can’t afford this chaos—not when every step forward feels more treacherous than the last. If I don’t master it soon, it won’t just be lamps that I destroy.
The prophecy sings through my mind;
Her destiny looms, unknown and untamed,
To balance the world or shatter the frame.
Balance. Or shatter the frame. The words haunt me. Balance feels impossible when every breath threatens chaos. Shattering feels inevitable, as though the Stars themselves expect me to set the world ablaze.
The panic coursing through me threatens to take hold, as I feel my heartbeat quicken and my breathing comes quicker. Louder. More ragged. Revryn always helped me when I started to panic. He would hold me tight and say the exact same words:
Tell me something you can smell, see and feel, little one.
One heartbeat at a time.
One foot in front of the other.
One moment is all you have.
I wrap my arms around myself, holding myself in a tight embrace, and force myself to notice.Sandalwood. A giant bed. Fresh linen clothing. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
As my heart and breath begin to calm, I slowly unfurl my arms and feel my awareness expand. Taking a moment to settle my nerves and shove the thoughts of the prophecy aside, I decide to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.The note. The others.
After dressing quickly in my rust-hued linens—scant, lacy underthings, too—I follow Kael’s instructions, my footsteps echoingsoftly in the quiet hallway. When I reach the door, I hesitate, the sound of voices drifting through the cracks. Discussions of the next relic, the next binding, the next step in fulfilling the prophecy that threatens to swallow me whole.
Steeling myself, I push the door open and step into a whirlwind of activity. The room is alive with energy, the quiet tension of my thoughts giving way to the buzz of voices and rustling paper.
The first thing I notice are the fresh linen tunics and trousers that Seren and Ronyn are wearing. Seren, a dark forest green and Ronyn, in all black.He did this for them, too.Tears threaten to spill from my eyes at the significance of seeing my family well-rested, fed, bathed and clothed, but I manage to contain them to a well that sits behind my lashes, and swallow down the emotion.
