“We’ll need to open the Gateway somewhere there are no guards. Maldrak will be guarded and armed to the teeth. And if he can get his hands on any one of us… our minds are his,” I warn.
But Elyssara’s face is heavy with a plan. A dangerous one.
“The dungeons,” she says, her voice like cold steel—sharp and dangerous.
“Please, Little Star—see reason!” Lesara beseeches, her face twisted in desperation.
And Elyssara spins to her, closing the distance between them. “For the first time in my life, I can finallyseeclearly.” She turns back to the group. “The dungeons. We break this war apart from the inside.”
Seeing her like this—this powerful, this fucking commanding, wrecks me. This is the woman I kneel for.
Seren sucks in a strengthening breath, emboldening herself. “Yes,” Seren breathes in reluctant agreement. “We fucking win this thing with clever strategies and heart. Not numbers. What will I use to open the Gateway to the dungeons?”
Elyssara smirks, cold and savage. “I have the perfect thing.”
My eyes snap to hers.
“My scars.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
KAEL
The air feels wrong.
Too still.
Too quiet.
Too many bodies twisted unnaturally in the damp earth.
Even the rain hangs in the air like it’s holding its breath.
Seren kneels in the dirt, eyes fluttering shut, her trembling fingers tracing sigils into the earth in the way Mavyrn taught her.
The marks burn faintly, threads of light weaving into the dark.
She’s shaking—but not from fear. From power.
Elyssara steps forward, steady as the moon, unfastening her cloak, removing her armor and leather, pulling her tunic down over her shoulders until the faint lines of her scars catch the moonlight. The marks gleam like constellations cut into skin—an atlas of every wound she’s ever endured.
But it’s the brand that holds my attention. The brand she refuses to heal.
Teddy sucks in a horrified breath, his eyes squeezing shut.
The others mutter curses under their breath at the sight.
“The brand,” she murmurs. “Made in the Kryntar Castle dungeons,” she snarls with disgust.
I knew this would be confronting for her. I fucking knew facing this place, this man, would be psychological warfare.
“Heal yourself, El. You don’t have to live with the evidence of Kryntar etched into your fucking flesh,” Ronyn pleads, his eyes sad.
“What have they done to you, my daughter?” Lesara breaks, her hands covering her mouth in devastation.
Elyssara steadies herself with a long, sustained exhale, and then she lifts her chin in defiance. “They found out they can’t break me, mother. Because I’ve lived through pain for twenty years, and nothing has broken me, yet.”
“Let him see it,” Morrathys snarls cruelly. “Let him know he did not win.”
