Swallowing hard, I nodded.
Thaddeus removed his shirt—as did Wymond—his rich ebony skin now fully on display. The king turned his back to me. I faced him fully, taking a deep, steadying breath before raising my palms.
“Thaddeus,” Wymond’s sharp voice cut in, startling me.
Shifting his focus to the High Lord, confusion flickered across his features—then his gaze landed on me, and understanding dawned. A sorrowful weight settled over his expression, pity softening the hard edges of his face. “No,” he murmured. “Like this.”
He turned me so I faced Tarrin and Nevander, then lifted one arm tomy side, then the other, until I stood splayed before them, like some offering to the gods.
“I don’t understand,” I said, voice shaky as my arms dropped. Then the realization struck. Cold. Brutal. Absolute. My stomach twisted as dread deeper than anything I’d ever known surged through me. I looked to Tarrin, his devastation confirming my worst fear.
“I’m…” I faltered. “I’m giving it to both of you.”
“You’re giving itallto us,” Thaddeus clarified.
The words hollowed me out. Whatever fragile hope I’d clung to that Thaddeus might stop before taking too much—that mercy might still exist in him—disintegrated to ash.
There would be no stopping him this time.
No Tarrin to come to my rescue.
And Wymond… Wymond would sooner see me dead.
In that moment, I knew with absolute certainty that I wouldn’t get out of this alive. But maybe—just maybe—dividing the spark between them would weaken it enough that neither of them could wield the full might of the world-building power that slumbered within me.
Knowing there was no other option, I slowly raised my trembling hands and braced myself.
Chapter 5
To Share a Nightmare
The tremble sank deep into my marrow, making the wobble of my fingers the least of my concerns as my knees threatened to buckle under terror’s breath-stealing weight.
Face forward, arms splayed like a common scarecrow, I locked my focus on the only face who cared whether I lived or died. Tears welled in Tarrin’s eyes, the light teak of his irises already dark with unspent sorrow. I offered him a sad, fleeting smile while silently cursing the Ancients for damning me with the burden of the spark.
Then I turned inward, to the well of power that had brought so much ruin, and readied myself to relinquish every last ember I had to give.
A strange peace washed over me, knowing it would all be over soon. At least until Thaddeus and Wymond began to drink down my power.
Agony, blinding and absolute, ripped through me as each ruler fought to outpace the other for more.
Tarrin’s desperate cries of my name sounded as if they came from underwater. I fought to focus on him as my vision ebbed and flowed in fractured bursts. In a lucid moment, my focus flickered to Nevander, whose lips curled into a feral grin, and a strangled sob tore free from me before his hand even moved.
In a blink, Tarrin’s eyes widened in shock. Then pain.
“No!” I screamed, the word somehow shattering my tether to Thaddeus and Wymond.
The bond snapped with a sound like cracking glass, and a powerful blast of energy hurtled through the cavern, plunging it into darkness as it tossed me across the room. I hit the ground hard, my head striking something unyielding with a sickening thunk.
“Tarrin!” I cried out. “Where are you? Tarrin!” My voice broke on his name. Panic clawed through me as I scrambled to orient myself. He was dying. I knew it. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let him die alone. My hands fumbled uselessly through the dark, catching only fabric. My legs tangled in my skirt, slowing me further.
“Tarrin, please.”
“Nyleeria,” a voice reached out to me, calm where mine was chaos—and my panic doubled.
I jerked toward it, but warm hands closed around my arms, holding me firm.
“Let me go!” I thrashed against the grip. “Please—Tarrin!”
