“Chiron wasn’t your savior,” I say, removing my soaked jacket and letting it hit the ground with a splat. “You tradedfreedom for scraps. He tricked Leigh, locked her in a vault, and tried to use her to spark another civil war. Leigh didn’t kill you. But you are condemning her out of spite.”
She clenches her jaw. “Kosac and I struck a deal. I told him everything I knew about Leigh, and in return, he’ll let me spend the rest of my days on this level of Mictlan, never experiencing the other levels of sorrow. He sent the Dullahan to kidnap the boy named after Leigh’s brother, knowing she’d act to save him out of guilt.”
My heart skips an uneasy beat. “But Leigh opened the rift. How could you predict that?”
“Kosacopened the rift the night Leigh tried to call the gods for Aradia. He blocked her signal and made his move. She agreed to his terms: her soul for Aradia’s. Your leaving gave him the opening. She fell right into his trap.” Her hands fall limply to her sides.
White-hot guilt floods my chest. I shouldn’t have left. By leaving, I let Kosac fulfill his wish. “She made a mistake. Mistakes can be unmade.”
Selene frowns. “No, Wilder. She’s stuck here, forever.”
No. The word repeats—booms—throughout my entire being. I refuse to believe that. I can fix this; I’m a Blade, and I solve tough cases in my line of work. Leigh is going to be my wife, in this life and the next. I’m not giving up on her.
Selene lets out a strangled sound. “You never liked me, Wilder. Admit it. You probably felt relief when I died. The Lunar Witch got what she deserved.”
Heat flushes my cheeks. She isn’t entirely wrong. I was raised to hate her kind. But when she died, all I felt was disappointment in the system and myself for believing in it. Leigh changed my views—as well as the world’s views—on Lunar Witches with Aradia’s help. She abolished the Labor Laws, freeing the Nebula from being forced into jobs dictated by their respective magicsectors. For the first time in my life, I had a choice about my future. However, I still chose to remain a Blade. It was never my dream, but gradually, it became my calling. By dooming Leigh, she has put all of us at risk of repeating the past.
“You’re right,” I admit. “How I treated you was wrong. I’m sorry.”
Selene’s jaw drops.
“Leigh changed my life.” My fear eases. “The world’s different now. Pallas works for the Blades, Chiron is serving a life sentence, and Leigh is queen. Things are better. Why undo all that now? For petty revenge?”
A shadow crosses her face. “Because I—” She cuts herself off, pain in her eyes.
Guilt is probably eating at her, but it’s not too late for her to fix what’s broken. She can help me. Help Leigh.
“What happened to you is unforgivable, Selene. But Don is in prison; he stood trial for his actions. While his crimes can’t be undone, Leigh made sure he faced the consequences. You still have a chance to make things right. You deserve peace. Let her have hers, too. Help me, please.”
She shudders, rain and ghostly tears mixing together. “I wanted happiness. Thought revenge would give me that. I thought you, of all people, might understand after what Chiron did to you by recruiting your dad into Nyx.”
I shrug, water running off my arms. “Eos corrupted my dad, and ultimately, justice prevailed. He made his choice. He faces that regret every day, but you don’t have to follow the same path. There’s still time for you to change course.”
Something softens in the haunted depths of her face. She whispers, “Oh.”
“Where is she?”
“The castle.”
I don’t hesitate. Heart pounding, I run toward Leigh. She’s my heart, my anchor, my home. I’ll steal her back right from under Kosac’s nose. Each sprint brings me closer to her, to whatever madness, hope, or heartbreak lies ahead.
As I run, the rain steadies, echoing my determination. For the first time since I arrived, Mictlan’s storm seems to part, clearing a pathway just for me.
I want it all, and I’m done waiting.
It’s ironic.
The prison cells beneath the castle—the same ones that once held rebels and political prisoners during my ancestors’ reign—now only hold a single occupant: me. What was meant to break the spirits of many now targets only my isolation. The dungeons should be haunted after centuries of suffering, yet even the ghosts seem to have abandoned this place, leaving me in a silence so complete it becomes its own form of torture.
I researched this realm to rescue Aradia and came here for Fynn. I succeeded in saving one but failed with the other. Fynn was never here. The little boy might have been taken from his bed by one of the Dullahan, but he was never dragged beneath the lake’s surface or brought into this gray scale realm of the dead. He was just bait—bait I swallowed whole.
Is the prophecy true? If it is, without me, the peace I have fought so hard to achieve will crumble into dust. My people will suffer, and everything will be worse than ever.
I pushed Wilder away.
I sold my soul.
Now look at me. Trapped, soulless, and alone.
