Then the vision twisted.
Her lips parted—soft, knowing. Smoke slid over her skin like silk, clinging to every curve. Each step dripped withinvitation, hips swaying, gaze locked on his with pleading promise.
His chest jolted. Heat coiled low and sharp, dragging him toward her. His boot shifted, weight leaning before he even realized. A sound escaped him—half groan, half prayer. His body remembered hunger faster than his mind could fight it.
He tore his eyes shut.
When he opened them, she flickered—blank-eyed, slack, her voice hollow, mouthing words he couldn’t hear.
His chest seized.
Which was her? Which was real?
Teeth gritted, he carved the vow into himself like steel into flesh.
I’ll never let you go.
Not to smoke, not to shadow, not even to himself.
He opened his eyes again—she flickered, near then gone, radiant then broken, the haze tearing her from his reach.
Zeporah’s laugh split the chamber, ripping torches from their sconces. Smoke convulsed, bodies writhed, stone trembled under her fury.
Through the choking dark, he found her.
Not the phantom lover. Not the hollow thrall.
Her.
Amerei.
Hair wild, face streaked with ash, chest rising with terror—but her eyes locked on his as if the world had fallen away. Her hand reached through the smoke, trembling. Her lips formed the whisper: “Don’t leave me.”
The words struck sharper than any blade, burying deep. He clung to them—to her—the truth breaking through shadow. His own lips shaped the word back, raw and defiant, shattering the haze:
“Mine.”
It hit like a hammer.
The smoke convulsed, then tore apart.
Shadows collapsed.
Zeporah’s laughter strangled mid-echo—
and silence fell.
The calm before the scream.
Chapter Thirty-Four
You’re Mine
Chains snapped. Fire lit his hands. Mist burned in his eyes.
He had only one vow left to give.
The world snapped awake.
